Stupid Things
by sweetprincipale
Summary: Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still your person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?
1. Chapter 1

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part I**

There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still your person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them.

* * *

It started in tenth (her) and eleventh (him) grade. New kids at a new school. Outcasts and nervous, the cafeteria was the place to be stared at, whispered about-to not look where you're going.

"Oh my God! Sorry. SO sorry, I'm just- with the coordination and the... not looking up." Buffy picked up the tray from the floor and found herself looking into the bluest eyes ever made.

"It's fine, really." The boy, not too tall, with sandy, brushed back hair, fumbled out a reassurance and picked jello off of his shirt. It stained. Orange. He didn't look good in orange. But this girl. So adorable, and so apologetic, he found that looking more of a fool didn't really matter.

"I'm new here and I -"

"Me, too. First day." William cut her off with a burst of eagerness. _That I hope doesn't make me look like a ponce._

It didn't. The eagerness was returned. "Really?"

"Swear it."

He had an accent. Pretty. British and almost musical without being all stuck up like the guys in the old movies her mother made her watch.

"That's cool." Buffy tried not to let the eagerness in her voice reach the "pity me" level and played it calm.

"We moved over last week, but it's been a -" something clouded in his eyes, and he tried to stop himself, but couldn't. He didn't talk about these things, but the little figure in front of him suddenly made him feel like he'd found a friend in an ocean of loneliness. "A rocky start."

"Me, too. Although, I didn't move from England. That is an English accent, right?" _I'm going to look so stupid if he says it's Australian. I should have paid more attention during those movies..._

"Yes, my uncle and I came over-"

"Get out of the way. _God_! People do not want to stand here and look at two tragic victims of social awkwardness." A brunette and a pack of giggling girls pushed past them.

Buffy stared between the bodies. The guy looked like he wanted to tell them off, but he didn't. Just glared and moved silently back. "We should sit down."

"You should get another tray."

_So we split up... back to being lonely and the new girl. It was a nice three minutes of talking to someone..._

"There's a table by the window with a few seats." The invitation was subtle.

"Be right back." Buffy's grin spoke volumes of relief and maybe a little pathetic-ness, she didn't really care.

* * *

"My folks got a divorce over the summer. We came from LA after Dad got the house in the settlement."

"London. My uncle and I."

"Big move."

"Bloody awful." William poked at something on his plate, gave up and let the idea of eating fall by the wayside.

"It's weird coming in a few weeks later than everyone else."

"I know. New enough to stand out, not new enough to be like all the other transfers."

"Exactly." Buffy realized she didn't even know his name yet. And he didn't know hers. Duh. "I'm Buffy."

His eyebrows raised. "Are you putting me on?"

"No." Buffy looked immediately irritated.

"I'm William." He smoothed over with an awkward smile that somehow made her feel that any wrongdoing wasn't meant to be cruel, simply inept. She was all over inept.

"Sophomore?" He couldn't be. _Probably at least a senior._

"Year twelve- only here you don't have year thirteen, so- I'm in the 11th grade."

"Junior."

"Right."

"Darn."

The bell rang. They rose slowly. "See you around?" Buffy offered with a casual hopefulness.

"Do you take the bus?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

Her face lifted. "See you after. There's a big tree-"

"Offside the stone bench. I'll see you."

* * *

"I will _die_ in French."

"I'll help you, if you'll help me along with American History. In my old school, it was pretty much, 'discovered by some Spanish sailor in the fourteen hundreds, colonized for queen and country, rebel upstarts pinched the place, bashed each other to bits mid-eighteen hundreds, and then came in a few years late to the Second World War."

Buffy paused as they walked home together. It was a four-day habit by now. "I think that was how they taught it at my old school too." She said worriedly. "I didn't even know we came in late to a war. That's so rude. Who does that?"

He laughed. She laughed at his laugh, and she perked up, "Oh hey. I know all the state capitals. Does that count?"

"Dunno."

* * *

"Mom, this is Will. Will, this is my mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Summers. Lovely to meet you." William said with deep sincerity in every syllable, eyes seeming to drink her in as they shook hands.

"So nice to meet you too. It's so nice Buffy found another student who's new to the school. Let me get you some study snacks. Buffy, help me?"

* * *

"Buffy." Joyce hissed at her as they set up chips and grapes on a tray. "He's older than you, isn't he? Is this who you've been hanging out with, an older boy? All this month?"

"Mom, shh! He's going to hear you!"

"I will not shush, I'm concerned. I don't think-"

"You should be nice to him. He just moved here and we're new here too. Stick together."

Joyce focused on portions she wanted to hear. "Exactly, no one knows him, and he's much too old for you."

"He isn't! He's a year older. I think he just looks kind of- tired, and it makes him look older. His mom just died in July. He didn't say anything, but I can tell he's trying really hard not to get- " Buffy paused, groping for words, "I think it's hard for him to be around a mom right now. They were really close, she raised him by herself since he was a baby."

Joyce paused, stricken. "Oh no. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I tell you? I thought you'd be nice without instructions!" Buffy slammed two cans of soda next to the bowl of grapes and glared.

"What happened?"

"Lung cancer. Inoperable. His dad had already died in a motorcycle accident when he was really young, and his mom raised him mostly alone. His uncle, his mom's brother, helped, and he's the reason Will had to move. The uncle got a job. He's not just new in town, he's new in_ country,_ and I think you should be nicer, okay?"

Joyce softened immediately. "I will. Of course, I will. But don't bring him into the

house when you're by yourself. That goes for any boy."

"Seriously, Mom?" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Very seriously. And try to make some more friends, okay? It's not healthy just to hang around one person all the time. A girl would be nice."

* * *

"Your mum is so nice." William said wistfully.

"Try living with her." Buffy laughed, but nodded her agreement. "Most of the time she's great. Your uncle sounds really cool."

"He's all right. Not home much. Married to his job at the uni library. Regular night owl, too, seems like he barely sleeps. Just sits up and reads from his precious 'private' collection. It's like I'm never on my own if he's home."

"Where do you guys live?"

"Have a flat for now. He says he doesn't want to buy a house, because this job may only be temporary, and I'm off to uni myself in a few."

Buffy looked suddenly miserable. "Oh. Yeah." She cleared her throat. "In England?"

"I don't know." William shrugged like he was carrying a large weight across his back. "I'm not sure what I want to be."

Buffy laughed lightly. "We're teenagers. We're not supposed to know yet. We have years to grow up and be 'responsible'."

"True." A mischievous expression appeared on his typically mild-mannered, intellectual face. "Plenty time to mess about. Do all the stupid things they warn you about, all the stuff they tell you to say no to, but you can't seem to help tryin'."

"Or the not so stupid ones." Buffy prodded his elbow. "I thought you were going to be a good influence!"

He looked contrite, but he didn't take it back. He'd spent years being a devoted son, then a son and nurse, at a pretty young age. He knew his mum didn't have anyone but him and her brother left, so he instinctively spent time with her, learned to love her as a friend as well as parent, and now- well, what was left to be good for now?

"I didn't mean drugs or nothin'. Just... livin' a bit." His accent broadened and he mumbled more to himself.

"Hey, I'm all for that. But, seriously, don't get me into trouble. My mom did the whole 'He's an older boy!' panicked-mommy riff the first time she met you. Of course now she's probably wondering what to knit you for Christmas..."

His eyes glazed over. "First Christmas without my mum. She used to make somethin' handmade for me every year, an' I'd never wear it." He clenched his fist murderously, wishing he could pummel all the missed opportunities.

"Will..." Buffy hugged him, right there, in the middle of the sidewalk.

* * *

"Hrm. Wanna read this?" He handed her the leather bound journal. It was risky, but he saw what passing on the risks meant. Saw that you sometimes couldn't make it up later.

She read. Poetry. She didn't get poetry. Sometimes she didn't know if William got it either, just from the first few pages. But he wrote it, and it amazed her. "Wow."

William swallowed. "Wow?"

"You're good. You- put everything in here." His mom, his move, his wishes, his uncle, feeling alone, feeling never alone- all in short lines that sometimes flowed and sometimes didn't.

"Not quite everything." There would be a poem about her some day. How do you write about your best friend and the girl you think is saving you when you're on a downward spiral, especially if she's the only one you've ever shown your writing to? There are risks and there are _risks_, after all.

"It's really good." She flipped another page. "I wish I could write or something. Be good at something."

"Everyone is good at _something._ What are you good at?"

Buffy blushed. "Cheerleading."

William swallowed a snigger with effort that threatened to burst his larynx. "So try out."

"That bitch Cordelia Chase runs the squad. She doesn't like me. I'm LA fashionable, Sunnydale fashion victim, according to her and her herd of wannabe Chases."

"She doesn't make the decisions does she? Isn't there a coach?"

"There's a coach, but-"

"Ask for a try out."

"But-"

"I'll come with you."

* * *

"Oh my gosh. Will, do not come in here."

"What? Why? An' why would I? Not exactly allowed." William rolled his eyes. Lovely girl, really, but sometimes his friend wasn't so bright.

"They took my shorts."

William blinked outside the girls' locker room. Ten minutes until the first basketball game of the season and Buffy's first time on the squad. "Your pants?"

"No, the little red shorts you wear so you don't show the entire school your -" Buffy trailed off, frustrated. "I hate them. My mom was even going to take off work today and I'm going to publicly humiliate her, and myself, or sit on the bench, which is what Cordelia wanted the whole time."

There was the sound of something slammed into the wall. "And I just ruined my manicure."

William frowned. Eyes narrowed. "Don't go anywhere."

Five minutes later a small wad of black cloth popped through the door in a clutched fist. "Buffy?"

Buffy took what the bobbing hand held out. Boxers. "Are these-"

"Find a safety pin or something and cinch up the back. They'll hold. I think." William stood uncomfortably in his jeans. "Can't say I have experience in this field."

Buffy didn't have a safety pin, but she had two bobby pins and a burning desire to get even with Cordelia Chase.

William watched her come out, fire in her eye. "Thank you." She said gravely.

"You're welcome." He said with as much gravitas as he could manage while trying not to chafe.

"Are these... yours?"

"Your mum took off from work, and I've been comin' to practices every day for a week to watch you do that bloody basket drop- thing. You're not missing out on this because someone nicked your uniform bottoms."

"That is _true_ friendship."

"I know." William winced as he walked. "You owe me one."

"You want a pair of my undies?"

"No, but I might need a lift home. I rode my bike."

* * *

"William. Will!"

"What? What's it?" The teen sat up, shirtless and bleary eyed, and grabbed at his sheets. "Buffy?"

"Shh! Come out here." Buffy looked freaked, and nervous, as well she might, literally being up a tree outside her friend's flat window.

"What the hell are you doing up in the-"

"Some guys chased me. Messed up guys with messed up faces and - um- I took Mom's car. I mean, I took it before they chased me, I thought I'd go get a pizza. She's stuck at the airport in Santa Fe, they had thunderstorms or something. She was supposed to be back at eight, and I decided to just... I have my permit!"

William put his head in his hands. "I'm getting dressed. Hold on. An' close your eyes!"

* * *

Two kids putting their entire bank accounts on the counter at the body shop. The manager looked up. "You're the little fender bender?"

"Fender, stop sign, bending." Buffy wincingly confessed. They'd gone back to retrieve the car, and she'd nervously driven it to the shop.

"I got your estimate here... four hundred."

Buffy paled. William darkened. "Payment plan, mate?"

"With fifty percent down."

"That should cover it." Buffy mentally began pawning her jewelry and figuring out how much a guilt ridden father who hadn't spoken to her in four months should cough up at Christmas- no, not enough. She added in her birthday money, due to arrive in just over a month. Mom would have killed her prior to that. She needed the car _immediately._ "I can get you the rest."

"By the time the car is picked up."

"Picked up? You can't fix it now?" Buffy's eyes glazed in panic.

"Nope."

"C'mon, luv, it'll be fine. We'll be back tomorrow with the money, all right?"

* * *

They paid off the car by breaking into his trust money, not that there was much left in that little legacy, not after cancer treatments and the funeral.

The car was back, in one piece, and Santa Fe was lifted from flight restrictions just in time for Joyce to watch Buffy and William pulling into the garage. She yelled at them both for driving with just a permit, and not asking permission, and grounded Buffy for a week.

It was Will's turn to figure out how to climb up a tree, and get to her window.

"You on bread an' water rations?" He held up a chocolate bar.

She let him in.

"Sorry we weren't a little bit faster with the car, and getting the money out."

"Oh, this is nothing!" Buffy seemed thrilled to be grounded for a week. "If she found out about the car accident, she'd have grounded me for life, and yes, on bread and water. Seriously. Thank you. Thank you, so much."

"Don't thank me all serious-like, it doesn't suit you." He teased, and let her hug him instead, glad to have someone to embrace. His uncle was a warm man, when he wasn't busy, but he rarely showed it physically. "That's much better." William murmured into her ear.

She kissed him on the cheeks, and then the lips, and then they stopped. Too scared to lose the only friend they had. "I love you, you know?"

"I thought you might." His heart soared happily, not lustfully.

"Well... aren't you going to say it back?"

"I'm English. Gotta be a bit drunk first."

"You're a poet, you don't a drink, you need ink. Ha, now I'm a poet too."

_Oh, what the hell._ "I love you, too, you trouble maker."

* * *

"You're in so much trouble. What the hell happened?" Buffy found him outside the principal's office, blacked eye and split lip, his hair badly disheveled.

He wouldn't say.

"Spill it, William."

"I was singin'."

Buffy looked nonplussed. "In a non-singing zone?"

"In the locker room." He muttered. "There's a pep band startin' in February, playin' at the Valentine's Dance and I thought... my mum used to make me take piano lessons, see, and she sang. So I learned to sing a bit. My uncle plays guitar, and he's not bad, so we sing sometimes. Least, we used to..."

"We've been friends all this time- I've worn your boxers and you've prevented my untimely death by momicide, and you didn't tell me you could sing?" Buffy punched his arm, then regretted it as he actually fell out of his chair. Someone passing laughed rudely and she turned to give them the stare-down until they moved on quickly.

"No more beatin' up on me today, all right, Buffy?" He sounded weary of life. "What's his name, Larry, and his jockstrap-for-brains- mates said a few things."

"About your voice?"

"About guys who sing at the school dance instead of goin' to it. Bein' bent."

Buffy followed this slowly. "You hit him for it?"

"Not so much that, just for the part when he said a few things about what I needed to do to a certain sophomore to prove I wasn't."

Buffy colored. "I'm going in to see Flutie with you."

"Huh? No."

"Yes."

"Buffy, I said _no_."

"So? I said yes, and you know you're going to let me."

"Really?" He wiped his bleeding lip. "How do I know that?"

"Because. I'm one of those stupid things you can't say no to."

* * *

"It's orange. For the jelly you spilled on me the first time I ever collided with you." He showed her the tie with a mock-rapturous expression. "Oh, happy stain."

"You - you're not serious."

"An' you have to wear an orange dress."

"No one wears orange to a formal."

"You have to, Luv, or we'll clash."

"But I'll look so... stupid."

There was an expectant pause.

Buffy sighed. "Okay, but pink-orange. Coral. Understood?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Had to lie to get in here." William sat on the bed. "Said I was your brother."

Buffy looked up at him, pale and with matted, dark hair, dark circles. "You might be. I don't know. Crazy people don't know anything. That's what they tell me."

"You're not crazy." William took her hand. It was tied to the bed frame by a leather cuff lined with wool. He looked over his shoulder and hastily unbuckled it. "Bastards. All the nice things I said about your mum? I take 'em back."

Buffy laughed weakly, yet somehow tears leaked out. "See? Crazy."

"Not crazy. What happened?"

"I saw them. I saw the guys with the messed up faces. Different ones. I'm starting to see them everywhere."

"They stalkin' you?"

"I don't know, I don't know! How can they be if they're not real, but I know they're real, I-" Her voice was on the edge of hysteria.

"Shhh. Shh, now, listen. I believe you. Remember that. Even if it's crazy, I know you're not. So I believe you."

Buffy swallowed her tears and panic and nodded. She let out a deep breath and then said calmly. "I saw a vampire. I stabbed him with the wooden No Dogs Allowed sign in Mrs. Feinbaum's yard and he turned to dust and went 'poof'. The other one ran away."

William's mind reeled. "Are you-"

"Crazy?"

"No. Serious?"

Buffy nodded. "Mrs. Feinbaum found me on her lawn, hysterical and covered in ashes and broken dog sign. First she called the cops for vandalism, then they called Mom when I told them what happened. I told them... I shouldn't have told them the truth."

William paused. Hard to believe. Yet- Buffy didn't lie to him. "You ever told me a lie, Buffy?"

Buffy searched her brain. "Um. Yeah. When I said I had to go to LA for Spring Break. I stayed home the first two days, until Mom took pity on me and took me to the beach. I didn't want you to know my dad was such a jerk that he actually forgot to pick me up."

William moved onto the bed and put his arm around her. "Could it have been someone with pointy teeth and rigged to go off?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Buffy leaned on him with a sad sigh.

"I know you're not crazy."

"So you believe me?"

"I believe what happened. Not so sure about what did it."

"That's better than anything anyone else has said. Thanks."

* * *

They let her out in a week. He visited every day. He walked her to school and to the Bronze after and home again, while her mother fretted and his uncle didn't seem to notice he was gone at all, suddenly preoccupied to a whole new level with some new project.

* * *

It was two weeks later when she saw them again, and when he saw them too. He didn't see quite the same thing, but he saw the way she reacted and saw the big, fast bodies coming at them, no, at her, and the way something in his best friend took over.

She never mentioned she was a ninja, William thought as he was thrown against a wall.

* * *

"Will! Are you okay?" Buffy sat up, torn and ashen, but triumphant. Wooden packing crates kicked into shards and stabbed seemed to be an okay combination.

He sat up slowly, painfully. "Aside from a severe case of brown trousers, I'm fine." He gasped. "Holy shit, Buffy. What..."

"Vampires."

"I get it now."

* * *

"Guess what happened now?"

"What?"

"Some old guy came up to me today when I was walking home and told me he's my Watcher."

"What is it with you and stalkers?"

"Not watching me, a Watcher. They train Slayers. Which, apparently, is what I am."

"Damn, the one day I have band practice..."

"He says he'll train me in the art of Slaying and I'm not supposed to reveal my true calling."

"Well, he obviously didn't know about me, then." William rolled his eyes.

"And he gave me this." Buffy held out a bag. Two books, two bottles, two wooden stakes, and a beautifully ornate cross. "Slayer starter kit." She joked to cover how utterly terrified and wigged she was.

"With back ups." William picked up the book. "_Vampyre_."

"Holy water." She showed the bottles to him.

"Two pointy sticks." He took one.

"What are you-"

"Well, if he gave you two, you have one for a friend."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go off and get attacked, and apparently the police don't listen to you when you tell them what's lurkin' in the dark, do they?"

Buffy sank back on her bed. "Read that one. I guess I'm the one who has to read _The Slayer's Handbook_."

"Homework? The creepy old man gave you homework? Doesn't he know you're already failing math, this berk?"

"I guess that's not his deal. He doesn't have to live with a mother who's already convinced you need counseling and 'tough love'."

"What are you gonna do?"

Buffy looked at him with scared eyes. "I don't really know. Give it back if I can. Get through it if I can't. He seemed pretty insistent." She made the meeting sound like a five minute affair. It wasn't. It was an hour of arguing and threatening to call the police on the guy and him calmly and politely not caring, because what he had to say was more important. The way he spoke, the words he said, everything rang true inside her. It was horrifying, but at the same time a relief, to understand what's happening to you.

"We'll do what we have to do."

* * *

"Finished your math homework."

"I owe you."

"You owe me like eighty."

"I think I found a way to repay at least forty-five. I met this actually really nice, not a snob girl. She's pretty and she's academically competent, which would probably be good for your brain, huh?"

"I can get my own girls." He lied confidently. He hadn't been able to so far. Didn't seem to matter right now.

"She's super sweet, Will! She's in all advanced classes which is why I never met her until now. I bet you like red heads."

"Nope. Brunettes or blondes." He said firmly. Buffy rolled her eyes. "All right then, 'Slayer', you want a love life, let's get you one. Gotta be someone in your grade you fancy?"

"I like older men. Maybe I have daddy issues." Buffy half-flirted with him.

"What about this Watcher? How old is he?"

"In the range of committing a crime old." Buffy said pointedly.

"You're not being very cooperative. What's your type?"

"I don't know. Has to have... chemistry. An edge. I don't like anything to be easy, I guess."

"So we're doomed." William said what they both were thinking. _Too easy between us. We love the other one, but it's not a burning passion, it's a nice cozy fire._ "He better be good to you, this future boyfriend, or I'll rough him up."

"I think, with my new Slayeriffic strength, that I can handle that myself." Buffy laughed.

"Speaking of- gonna patrol with you tonight?"

"Your uncle is going to flip."

"My uncle is never home, Luv, or if he is, he's dead to the world asleep. And don't give me that look. He's a good man, and we have our good times. He's just been quiet lately. Mum was his only sister, and their parents have been dead for yonks. He was a bachelor too, don't think raising a teen was on his cards."

"Well... my Watcher'll flip. He's never going to go for bringing along a 'civilian'."

"Is he with you all the time?"

"About half."

"So I'll come on the other half."

"Will, you're gonna get hurt!"

"You'll protect me, you big strong girl, you."

"You're talking crazy. No one wants to go out and risk their lives all the time."

"Thought we had a deal about crazy an' stupid, didn't we? Tell me when he's not around."

* * *

"This guy has been following me around. But I think he's trying to help me, not hurt me, so don't freak."

"Help you with what?"

"I don't know."

"Doesn't sound very helpful."

"He says something big is coming, something my Watcher doesn't understand."

"Hey, he's allowed to meet the Watcher, but _I'm_ not?"

"I don't think he's met him, he just knows about Slayers and Watchers and stuff. I'm guessing. He's kinda... cryptic."

"Cryptic."

"Quiet?"

"Quiet an' cryptic. Well, that's never gonna work for you, loudmouth."

"You're the one hogging all the solos on stage lately. Oh, hey, speaking of hot brunettes-"

"How were we speaking of hot bru-"

Buffy blushed as she realized she hadn't shared one particular thought about her cryptic helper aloud. "Cordelia Chase apparently said your social status has increased to datable."

"Oh joy."

"She's an A-lister and she's actually really pretty once you over look the snottiness."

"I don't like snots. I don't like bein' on any list, A or otherwise. But if you like quiet types, who're a bit older, there's a decent bass player who's joined up. He's in my year. Oz something."

"Who names their kid Oz?"

"What's your stranger's name then, _Buffy_?"

Buffy blushed. "Angel."

William laughed until he fell off the bed.

* * *

"I'm sorry, William, I have to go out. There's a- crisis. With finals week and the- uh- library- something." His uncle thundered down the stairs at bedtime, shortly after his mobile had rung.

William put down his pen and staff paper. "Okay."

His uncle dashed back up the stairs, to his room, pausing in the doorway. "I might be there all night. Uh. The university library keeps odd hours during finals."

"I understand. I'm seventeen, I'm not gonna burn the place down or let strange men selling ice creams in the house."

"Good lad." And he was gone again.

"Night, Uncle Bertie." William chuckled and shook his head at the perpetual flustered state of his once placid uncle.

* * *

"Hey. I um. Kinda want that back up now." Buffy called from a phone in the high school office, voice high and panting. Angel was with her, holding them off, but there were too many this time.

"Where are you? I'm coming." William's palms instantly turned slick, but he was already pushing himself towards the door.

"High school. Bring the pointy sticks, okay?"

' Kay." William's gut tightened. Buffy was in trouble, and this was it.

* * *

"It's not going very well." Angel crashed into the doorway, then barricaded it. Outside, figure slammed and pounded against the door. It was only a matter of time until it broke down. "We'll stay here, take them in as they come." He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I want you to get out if I go down."

Buffy's heart quickened at the chivalrous gesture and the moody brown eyes, so intense on hers. "I called for back up."

"Back up?" The moody brown eyes flickered in surprise.

"My Watcher and my best friend. We'll split the fronts. I'll take William, you take Giles."

"I don't like this."

"I don't really think we have a lot of options." She squeezed his hand back. "Hey. I'm sixteen. I have a whole lot of living left to do, so don't worry. I'm not screwing this up."

* * *

The dust settled. Figures found each other. Two relieved. Two in shock.

"William!"

"Uncle Bertie!"

"What!?" Buffy yelped.

"Why didn't you tell me your Watcher was my uncle? Why didn't you tell me you were a Watcher!? Or that you knew Buffy?" William demanded.

Angel hung back and looked awkward, Buffy just swiveled her head between the two Brits.

"Buffy, this is unacceptable, why in the world did you call for a civilian? My nephew of all people!" Giles suddenly moved forward and hugged him hard. "You could've been killed! Your mother would -"

"Wait, wait, wait. You're not- you can't be. Rupert Giles. William said his only uncle was-"

"Uncle Bert. Bertie. When I was little I couldn't say Rupert, I said Ru-bert, and it stuck. Just Bert or Bertie." William pushed his uncle off. "You never said he was called Rupert or Giles. You always call him 'The Watcher' or 'Mr. Doom and Gloom'."

"Well, he is!"

"You call me what?" Giles looked offended.

"I'm gonna go..." Angel slowly backed away.

"You never even said he was English!"

"I thought that sounded insensitive, like ' Hey you're English, I bet you know all the other English people.'" Buffy explained lamely.

"Oh honestly." Giles grumbled.

"Your names aren't the same, how was I supposed to know?" Buffy was still arguing with Will.

"They wouldn't be, mum's maiden name was Giles, but she took her married name and so did I." William explained, then turned on his uncle. "So, this is what you do all the time? There aren't any ruddy computer emergencies?"

"You lied to William?" Buffy put her hands on her hips angrily.

"This is getting out of hand!" Giles raised his normally even voice.

"Yeah. Bye." Angel moved further down the hall. Buffy finally noticed he was leaving.

"Oh, wait! Angel, hang on. You- both of you-" Buffy fixed the two men in her life with a hard stare, "owe me mucho explanation."

"She's failin' math 'cause of you." William muttered.

"Not important to a Slayer." Giles muttered back.

"Not just a Slayer, she's my friend. She's a student, she's a girl!"

* * *

"Can I stay with you a couple days?" William turned up in the same clothes he'd worn the night before.

"Why- I mean yes, I'm sure it'll be okay, but- why?"

"_Rupert_ and I had a fight."

"Over last night."

"Mhm."

"Did he..." Buffy had a hard time imagining her stodgy Watcher, who she still saw as a title, not a "real" person, would throw out his nephew. That would require a big dose of human emotion, and he seemed to be pretty cardboard-y.

"I didn't want to go home with him." Will answered her question.

"Again with the why?"

"You know how you call him 'The Watcher' all the time? Like he's some part of a machine, not a person?"

Buffy blushed. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Don't worry 'bout that. Way he acts, doesn't surprise me. But guess what? _You're_ the machine. You're meant to be used up and spat out, the hell with anything you want or do outside of Slaying. An' you're not s'posed to have any friends. Friends interfere with your 'mission'."

Buffy frowned. Angel had said the same sort of thing last night when he walked her home. "So you got mad at him?"

"Hell, yes!" He thundered.

"William! Buffy! That's detention." Mr. Flutie seemed flustered as he turned the corner to walk in on shouted cursing. "That's the second time this year you two have made trouble together."

"But he didn't do any-"

"I will not have swear words shouted down these halls!" Mr. Flutie ordered. "Now get to class, and then come to my office after last period."

* * *

"I can't tell Mom why you're here. She doesn't believe in this vampire shtick." Buffy walked slowly home from school, her friend slouching moodily after her. "I can say your uncle is away for a couple days?"

"Fine. He's on another bloody planet." William grumbled. He brightened slightly. "MTV has a special. Punk rock."

"Since when do you like that?"

"I don't know, just do."

"Well... I don't know if I can. I have a thing. With Angel. Bronze."

"So we'll hit the Bronze. Or is it a date?" His chest tightened a little.

"No. I don't think so. I actually don't know. Ooh, I know. C'mon, let me call Willow, the smart redhead? I know you like your brunettes or whatever, but she's the sweetest girl - ever, actually. And she likes poetry, books. She likes music, too. She plays the piano. I think. I don't remember. We have study hall together and French I. She already speaks better than the teacher, but whatever. Oh come on! Will, you and I could sorta-double."

"I don't wanna go on any stupid flippin'- oh shit."

"You said the magic word." Buffy grinned.

* * *

She was nice. Quiet. Angel was quiet, but not so nice. Seemed ill at ease and kept trying to drag Buffy into corners to whisper at her.

"It's okay, you know." Willow hiccuped nervously on her soda during one of the many awkward moments Buffy and Angel disappeared. "I know Buffy tried to set us up, but um- I knew that we- um- wouldn't be on a- um."

William shook his head anxiously, just as nervous as she'd been, but unable to figure out how to say what the girl had tried to explain. "Oh no, not like that. See, I- I actually think I'd like you to meet my friend. He's up where you are in the brains department, and he's up there tonight with his band." William took Willow's arm gently and led her through the crush of people. "The bass player. Oz."

"Oz. Wow. Cool name." Willow murmured as the bass player seemed to make eye contact with her across the stage, and smiled slowly.

* * *

"I'm going to LA for the summer." Buffy whispered. She had to whisper. If her mom knew William was in her room at midnight, she'd ground her for life. "My dad had a guilt attack and already took time off work."

"I'll miss you, Luv."

"I was gonna say, can't you come visit?"

"School friends in London asked me to fly out for July. I'll be back in August. Maybe I can swing it."

"What am I gonna do without you?" She moved closer to him on the bed, for his warmth, for the rocky solidarity of his lean chest. Angel didn't like her getting close, this close.

"Nothin' stupid. Promise me."

"I promise."

Silence. "You're going to make up with Giles, right?"

"_Rupert_?" William said the newly reborn name with a touch of condescension, but then relented. "In time. Always do. What's he gonna do, come to LA to 'Watch' you there?"

"He can't full time. But I'm sure he'll pop in to check on me. Angel said he- might too."

His body went rigid next to hers. "What d'you know about him?"

"Not a lot. He's older and he's serious, and he..." Buffy trailed off. He looked at her with naked hunger in his eyes, and it made her flutter inside, and when his rough whispers, usually warnings, burnt in her ear, she felt hot wet sensations in her stomach. For the first time she was seriously wondering if this is why people had sex, to unlock the slick painful knot, if it was more about facing the danger than finding the love. "He's something." There was something wrong about him and something between them, and it was probably bad, and she didn't care. She was getting that reputation, the bad girl, the trouble maker.

"He better be something good, or I'll have to pound him to a pulp, whether you can do it yourself or not."

"I think he's good. I think he wants to help."

Time passed. Couldn't be helped. They bailed each other out of tight situations. They saw less of each other and more of each other at different times. Most of all, they were there when it mattered, even if they didn't really want to be.

* * *

"If it's the vampire again-"

"Don't call him that, he can't help that."

"I'm not blamin' him for bein' a vamp, I'm blamin' you for havin' such a soft spot for him. It's like you like the tiger, long as he's tame."

"I don't!" But she did. The good girl yearned for normal and safety and pretty dresses, but the Slayer took over more and more and liked the torture and the rush of the darkness. "Look, it's my birthday, and he wants to have a little party. Come on, Willow and Oz will be there, and your uncle. There's cake..." She wheedled.

"I thought you were off in mad preparations to stop that fruitcake, Priscilla?"

Buffy winced. William knew her jealousies and fears. Angel made the beautiful, virginal looking vampire, hardly more than a girl, and she had a slavish attachment to him. In fact he must have done more than 'make' her, the way he almost seemed to regard her as his ex-wife or something. No, not ex-wife. His widow. The bride of Angelus, and he'd killed off that part of himself, leaving a mentally unstable, childlike waif alone in her immortality. For that, he had consideration for her, never hurting her, always sparing her... "_Drusilla_. I don't think there's anything more we can do unless I can kill her. Which I can't."

"Why? She's a vampire, you kill vampires, with notable exceptions."

"She's on my exception list, I guess. Angel says he has to do it, he made her this creature, he has to fix it. He also says the demon is in control once you're turned and it's not her fault she's all possessed-y. He feels sorry for her. Doesn't seem to matter that she's bonkers and kills people."

"I don't get that. If you're still the same person, and you choose when to act human and when not to, demon can't be all the way in control, can it? I mean, he's still got free will, and he's one."

"He has a soul. Never trust a vampire without a soul."

William paused between lines of the poem he was writing. "If I ever got bit..."

"I'm not gonna let you get bit!"'

"You can't be everywhere."

"Will, seriously, don't even joke." Buffy's blood turned cold.

"I'm not. I'm asking. Would you at least give me a chance to see if I was still me?"

Buffy paused. It had been a year in July and she missed it. He was different when he came back from England. Spent a lot of time reading poetry to her grave and being alone, away from the only family he had. "I don't like when you talk about death."

"I don't like when you go and get so bloody close to it." She slid into his arms and he locked them around her. "I wonder though... what happens if you go, but you stay. Like he did."

"Ask him."

"I would, but he doesn't like me. Told me once, I didn't belong around you."

"He's kinda jealous, isn't he?" That possessiveness was marginally attractive to her, a girl who'd felt like kind of unwanted lately, abandoned by her father, disappointing to her mother, unable to fit in at school.

"A bit." William scowled over her shoulder.

Buffy knew what she was about to promise was both unlikely and risky, yet the words tumbled out easily. "If anything ever happened to you- I'd take care of you, you know?" He nodded against her, arms relaxing. She swallowed. "Would do it for me?"

It chilled him. "You belong alive."

"So do you. You're full of life."

"You even more. You're everything beautiful and sunny, Buffy."

Silence. He stretched back, on his bed, her coming down with him. Her on top of him. She rolled to the side hastily, and he swallowed the hot blood and confusion inside of him. "Slayers don't live long."

"Bull."

"Giles says so."

"Giles also said Citroens would become the next import craze to the States." Will snorted out a laugh and she cracked a smile. "You're different."

So was he. Buffy moved over, close to him and gripped his hand. "I worry about you."

"Ditto, Luv."

"Promise me we'll always be okay?"

"I do. No matter what."

She nodded. Her head was full of thoughts and fears and falling in love. She never heard William whispering as she fell asleep,

"Do you think he'd make you the same promises?"

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time._

_Author's Second Note: Wow. The response to this has been amazing! Thank you for all the kind reviews, you inspired me to get my next update out super quickly._

_Dedicated to Illusera, Tesslouise, Kitakana, Ava, Omslagspapper, Kamw30, AGriffinWriter, Rihannon, Jhiz, The Darkness Befalls, TieDyeJackson, Sirius120, jackiemack916, CavementFTW, and Ginar369. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part II**

The party was crashed, literally. Drusilla arrived in white gowned splendor and raven-haired madness, showed up with several of her "living dollies". The "children" she'd made through her shared blood all came smashing through the windows like a flock of demonic birds.

"Need a Slayer's blood to make the oceans boil and the skies rain blood. I'll give you a present, if you give me one." Drusilla sang in a little singsong voice as she looked around for the birthday girl.

"What's she on about?" William hissed to Buffy as they temporarily regrouped behind the bar.

"It's a talisman to awaken the Judge, a demon who was cut in pieces and separated during the Crusades. God comes to judge the wicked? Well the Judge comes to judge the good. You have to fill the talisman with the blood of a Slayer or a high shaman of a righteous tribe and slide it into the frame holding the body." Angel hissed back. "It's like the heart, it- it jumpstarts it."

Giles frowned. "How do you know so much about it?"

Angel winced. "I gave her the first piece as present, years ago."

Willow blinked, completely out of touch with all this madness. "What?"

Oz was more stoic. "Shamans are pretty hard to find these days. Plan?"

"Get out and run." Buffy pushed Oz and Willow away, towards the exit behind the bar. "Giles, make sure they get out okay."

"Let William do that, he has less experience and- Will!"

Will was already over the top, scrambling towards the ringleader.

The ringleader stopped. Beautiful, entrancing blue eyes widened.

"Who is this beautiful boy, Angelus?" Drusilla whispered, hands gliding from her body, reaching towards William as if magnetically drawn.

"Eighteen now." William grinned over his rapidly rising fear. "I think you meant man."

"Oh, long, long been a man, but always meant to stay a beautiful boy." Drusilla seemed to forget everything else.

"Uh. Boss?" One of her henchman piped up.

"Shh, mummy's working." Drusilla shushed her follower with a jerk of her pale hand.

"Leave him alone, Drusilla." Angel ordered, stepping up. "You want a fight, let's fight."

"I don't want to fight. I want my prezzies, my beautiful, beautiful prezzies." Drusilla looked past William towards Buffy, who was silently coming up behind one of the other vampires. "A bottle of her rubies, and all that gold." She gestured longingly to William.

"Guess what?" Buffy cut off the remark Angel was preparing to make. "We're not a piece of jewelry. You want rubies and gold?" She mowed through one vamp, onto the second, the rest turning towards her with snarls. "Go to Tiffany's like everyone else."

Things went from verbal stalking to full on rampage. William wasn't in the same class of fighting ability as Buffy and Angel, or even his uncle, he came to quickly see, but he had youth and stubbornness on his side. He disabled a few temporarily, and dispatched one permanently. "Buffy? Buffy?" He sat up from his tussle, ash and blood on his high set cheekbones, blurring his crystalline eyes. Buffy wasn't visible.

* * *

"He loves you. Not the way he loved me, but," Drusilla inhaled the scent of the woman she was scuffling with, "but you're so pure, my ruby. So good and so pure. He loves to defile pretty vessels."

"Crazy talk needs to stop." Buffy labored against her with a badly bruised, possibly dislocated shoulder, fighting to get away from the alcove Drusilla was dragging her deeper into.

"Unopened, you are, and so clean it stings. Stings him inside. Can't let him burn for anyone but me." Drusilla suddenly giggled. "That'd be cheating."

"Then let's just- call the- game- off!" Buffy heaved herself forward, ready to make a killing blow. Drusilla shrieked and Buffy swerved, not of her own volition.

"I'll do it." Angel appeared behind Buffy and pushed her firmly away.

Buffy hesitated, but then nodded, and turned her attention to the melee still going on in the club. "Giles, Will, get out."

"Not until you do." Both men said at once, and gave each other a grudging smile as they fought.

No one saw Angel's blow fall short, leaving the vampire in white impaled through the breastbone, bleeding in a ball. He slowly moved her by the window before he turned away, thinking that the sun would finish her in a matter of hours. "Sorry, Dru."

Drusilla sighed, blood leaking from her lips. "You've played much rougher before. Naughty wolf, don't play with your food."

He walked away, breathing hard though he had no need for air.

"See you soon." Drusilla moaned softly, and began working the stake from her chest, weeping and giggling softly in turns as she did so.

* * *

"Is she gone?" Buffy reached for Angel's arm, knowing what he'd just done must have caused him so much distress.

"Her minions will be back to see what happened. It's not safe to stay here. Let's go, we've got to get to her nest, we have to find the Judge and break it up, got to get you away from here." Angel declared authoritatively. Buffy nodded and let him wrap his brawny arm over her shoulders and lead her away, Giles limping as he followed after her.

William hung back for just a second. He thought he heard shuffling inside the battered building. The sound of sirens and the flash of red and blue lights sent him scurrying after his friend, and worrying how her seventeenth birthday could be salvaged.

* * *

"He gave me a ring." She wore it now, on shaking hands.

"Claddagh." William knew it. "Irish."

"He's Irish. Or was. Is." Buffy stumbled over the words. "It was- it wasn't like she said."

"Who? Your mum?" William didn't think they should be having this conversation, but he didn't think he would ever stop her talking, no matter what she was saying. He knew if he told her it made him feel all sorts of unspoken, confusing things, that she'd apologize and stop immediately. He didn't want that at all. He wanted to apologize to her, to apologize for ever leaving her alone with him that night. _Look what happened. _

"Drusilla, not Mom. If Mom finds out... God, William, I- I know I'm getting a bad reputation as a wild child or something, but- but I never... never before last night. I really thought it ought to be with someone you love and you plan to be with and... I think he did too."

"I'm sure he did." Will traced the ring. Loyalty, love, friendship.

Curiosity. "What'd she say?"

Her voice quaked as she retold it, abbreviated it. "That he loved pure things, good things- loved to ruin them. That I would sting him." Her face crumpled and she sobbed. "Sting him inside. Oh God, she was right."

He cried with her, hands around her head, her head bowing onto his chest. "I'll find him."

"He's not Angel anymore."

"Then you won't mind if I-" he couldn't. No, he couldn't do that. "I'll stay here with you, Pet."

"Thank you." Buffy was silently worried that Angelus would find William soon enough.

* * *

It wasn't Angelus, but Drusilla that found the young man. "I thought you were supposed to be dead." William swallowed when she cornered him in the alleyway after his set.

"Daddy likes to cause pain, not to end it." She said as if that explained everything. "You're what he wants next."

William blinked in surprise. "Me?" He'd thought it would be Buffy for sure.

"To twist and twist and twist the knife. Pain, revenge, it's such a jolly time." Drusilla took a hopping skip towards him. "Says you want her... says he smelled you on her, on her bed, in her blood..."

William looked shocked, so shocked in fact that he didn't bother to finish discreetly pulling a stake from his jeans pocket. "We never."

This expression delighted Drusilla more that he could understand, as she suddenly flew over to him, tackled him. He struggled, but she was strong, like a willow whip, bending, but unbreaking. "Daddy didn't mean _that_. He takes those pieces for himself, the innocent pieces. You don't want that, you want the rest, and you'll have it, my lovely lamb." Her hands were tracing him, all over him, as her eyes glowed and mated with his. "She loves you too, and it'll break her heart in pieces, not just in two, when dear Angelus is through with you. The boy loves words, loves to roll them 'round, make them into pretty lines..." Drusilla seemed momentarily distracted by her own poetry, and seemed to know an unsettling amount about him. She danced across his lips with a blood red nail as she spoke.

_Jealous of me. Wants to use me to hurt her. Not happening. _"Why are you here? Doin' his dirty deeds for him?" William stalled, spitting her finger off his mouth.

"Oh no." A cool tongue lapped his throat, and then dipped into his mouth, kissing him until he wasn't sure if he was seeing stars or just the night sky overhead. "You're too pretty to destroy. Not simple like her. You want to know."

He gasped as fangs sank into his throat.

"You want to know what happens next, you wonder about what happens after." Drusilla's lips tasted his again, stained and sharing her drink. "Wonders about his mummy, and heaven, hell, graves, and demons. All the little lights shining in your head, your heart, so full of it all, William, and no one sees it. You wonder why. You wonder if you were meant to blaze, or be a candle under the bed." Yellow eyes hovered inches from his, and her fangs daintily rested on her smiling lips before she bowed her head to his throat again.

"Don't think I- want to find out- from you." William shoved her hard, and staked her weakly, before running blindly from her, knowing he hadn't killed her, had only brought himself a short reprieve.

She hadn't fought hard as she should, but she didn't care. She listened to his footsteps running from her with a satisfied smile. _One day, they'll run back, and I'll catch the pretty rabbit..._

* * *

"Should have ended it. Had me so bloody turned around-" William shook his head. He let Buffy put the tape across his throat and felt her fingers examining his wounded vein as it throbbed unsteadily. He could tell her. Make her angry, but he'd tell her.

"She said I wondered. Kissed me and bit me, and she said - all sorts of things about- me."

"She does that." Buffy soothed. "She has visions."

"I didn't kill her."

"I'd rather have you alive than her dead! You lost a lot of blood pretty fast. It was better to get away."

"I didn't kill her, 'cause- she's right, Luv. I wonder that stuff all the time. Feel like I'm waitin' to be me."

"You _are _you. You're my Will and I love you and you- you can't leave now." Buffy whispered brokenly.

Her lips were hot and salty, not cool and crimson.

Her kiss wasn't really for him. "Buffy, don't, Luv." She nodded. She understood. Her lips were mentally on another's. He wondered if she knew his were as well. "I won't leave." He swore.

* * *

He hauled her off the porch as Joyce's words rang in the air. "If you leave, never come back."

"She didn't mean it." Will braced her as they trotted from the house.

"She did." Buffy sounded hollow. Angelus had attacked Willow, stalked her mother and revealed their past relationship to her as brutally as he could. He tortured Giles, and then left a picture on her pillow that night.

A gruesome image she couldn't blink out. William, lying on a floor, so clearly not alive, so clearly beaten and lacerated, and probably other things she didn't want to think about. It was done in red ink, and she knew he was next.

"Don't come with me. You go help Willow and Oz with that spell."

"But-"

"Please!"

"Buffy, I can't just-"

"If you love me, you will listen to me." Buffy grabbed his arms and shook him. "You'll stay right next to her, right next to Giles, in the hospital. You can't let them get hurt!" _You can't get hurt, either._

"How do you know he won't double back, come after Joyce?"

"He's done as much damage as he can do there." Buffy whispered. "Being dead to her is almost as bad as her being dead to me..."

* * *

He was dead. The vampire had to be. And the only thing left in the place was a burnt doll in an old lace dress. He didn't know if that meant Buffy died, or Buffy ran. She wasn't there to ask.

It was the worst seventy one hours of his life. The seventy second one was only slightly better.

"I'm alive. Let them know. Just- don't let them come after me. Don't you come after me."

Will gripped the phone. "Are you comin' back?"

A dead response, "No."

"Then can I come to you?" He pleaded, voice desperate.

She hesitated. "No... Thank you."

He got mad. "You can't do this to us. To me. Runnin' off. Buffy, you can't do this!"

"Then you don't have to forgive me." Buffy whispered mournfully, and hung up.

* * *

Summer in London again, with his days spent writing poetry next to his mother's grave, telling the stone long, complicated stories about life in Sunnydale, vampires of great beauty and madness, and Slayers who broke your heart in whole new ways.

Nineteen now, nineteen in the summer, and alone in London. Last three birthdays he'd had, spent alone or near death. His uncle wouldn't leave off searching, even though this summer he was supposed to have joined his nephew on a trip back to their home country. The young man who seemed hardened and looked so much older stopped staying with old friends, started staying out all night, developing a taste for whiskey, cigarettes, and convenient "borrowing" to get by.

* * *

He didn't know the girl's name. He was drunk, she was giggling and even more drunk. She was lithe and high busted, had long black hair, dead pale skin caused by gothic make up, not by exsanguination, and a scorpion tattoo on her ankle. That was all he remembered from his first time. That it was hard and pleasurable, that her lips didn't taste right, didn't feel right, and that bobbing scorpion tattoo, dancing next to his ear as he held her legs over his shoulders and plowed into her.

When he came, he pushed away from her, panting, and awkwardly helped her up, into a limp hug on the edge of the hostel bed.

"Who the hell's Buffy, then?" His conquest slurred.

That had been the name he growled low in his chest when he was inside her, when he was finishing in her.

William bit his tongue. He had pages and pages of her, poems on everything from the gait of her walk to the exact shade of her hair. "I don't know any bloody Buffy."

* * *

Whenever the phone rang late at night, he lunged for it out of habit. Seven times it happened in the month he'd been home from London, and six times it had been a request for the Oriental Palace, just two numbers switched from his.

The seventh time it was a dream. It had to be, because he'd had this dream so often, he now could replay it when he was awake, that was all.

"It's me."

"Buffy." William waited for the next part of the dream. The part where she said she was sorry and she never should have left and she wondered if he was still her friend.

"Can I borrow twenty bucks?"

He stood up. "Buffy!" The dream never had twenty bucks in it. This was real. "_Buffy_!"

"Shhhh! You'll wake Giles up and I'm not ready for that. Look, I just want to know if... you'd lend me twenty bucks, 'cause I'm gonna come home and I just kinda quit the lowest paying job ever."

"I'll come get you." He didn't even have to think about it, he was already pulling on his jeans.

"You have a car now?"

"Yep. Nineteenth birthday gift. Vintage, black. Beat up, but I like it." _How are we doing this?_

_ How are we doing this, talking like nothing happened? _Buffy clutched the pay phone a little tighter. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I owe you one."

He wanted to make her grovel a bit. Make her feel the pain of what life without her had done to him. Somehow all that came out was, "All I want is to come get you, an' we're square, Slayer."

Her voice was choked with tears. "You want me back?"

"I never stopped wantin' you here in the first place, you stupid bitch!"

The choking sound turned to a sniff, a laugh, another sob. "It _was_ stupid. You don't even know how much this summer has sucked."

"You're not really stupid. I ran, too. It's what you do sometimes. Think you'll find something." _Even forgiveness comes easy when it's her._

"Or lose something." _All the pain. All the memories. No, you don't lose them, you just miss the good ones more and more until it bursts and you put your last quarter in the phone. _

"I'll come get you. Where are you?"

"Los Angeles. There's a coffee shop by the Greyhound Terminal off Rt. 10."

"Be there soon. Don't. _Move_."

* * *

"Movin' into the dorms."

"You're going here?" William was so smart, he could have gone anywhere, in two countries.

He shrugged. "It's free for uni employees to send their kids- or wards- for the first sixty credits. Might as well."

"What's your major?"

"English, of course. Minor in music."

"I like it."

"Your mum never misses one day out of kicking herself for what she said when she was angry. Never misses a day off tellin' Rupert about it, either."

"They talk now?"

"Everyone talks now, Buffy. Searching for you."

"You?"

"No." He confessed. "I went away, too. I knew you didn't want to be found."

"Like I said. Stupid."

"Like we said- we do that." He put his hand out across the seat and she took it.

"I like the hair." She reached out for the blonde peaks, half gelled and bleached.

"It's not usually like this, but when you go off to pick up your idiot best friend in the middle of the night, hair stylin' can wait." He was self-conscious of it over here, though he hadn't been in London. London was a different world, a world where he moved anonymously, on the outskirts. A few years gone, and even in his old neighborhood, he was like a ghost. People looked at him with vague recognition, then moved on without questioning.

"I think it makes you look older."

"I _am _older."

"You know what I mean."

_She means I've gone hard. Seen too much. Well, I have._ "Look at you."

Buffy crossed her arms protectively. She didn't look like she had a few months ago. No more beauty queen, no more tough girl, either. A shadowy figure who liked to go unnoticed, hoping soon she wouldn't notice herself either. But she'd failed. She felt like she had been failing a lot. "Yeah. I know."

"You look beautiful." He said gently. "You'd never know what kind of hell you went through."

So gently it wove it's way into all the empty spaces and made her cry. "I missed you every single day."

"Ditto."

"Do you think... I can stay in the dorms with you if my mom doesn't want me back?"

"Yes." He answered unhesitatingly. Who gave a fuck for the rules? This was them. "But she will. You'll see. Things are gonna go back to the way they were. Even better."

* * *

"He's back, but you can't tell anyone."

"Oh bloody hell, no. How is that even bloody possible?" Will demanded. "You told me you killed the-" The pain in her eyes muted him. And memory savaged him. Angel had been back, Angelus knocked back into obscurity, right _before_ she sent him down with the portal. "Is it... it is him, or is it _him_?"

"It's Angel, not Angelus."

"Are you _sure_?"

Buffy recalled the naked, crying, clutching figure at her feet, the figure now in chains, with piteous eyes asking her why. Only he could inflict that much heartache. "Positive."

"You gotta tell Rupert."

"I don't have to!"

"Yes, you do! Hell doesn't just spit people back out, Buffy."

"How do you know, have you been there?" She demanded. She immediately wished she hadn't. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, you know I just meant that how could anyone know for sure what the immortal dimensions, heaven, hell, Neiman Marcus, are like? How could you know?"

"Neiman Marcus?" He arched a dark brow, now a stark contrast to his pale hair.

"Oh my God. The _shoes_, Will. It's where my credit card is going to go when it dies." They laughed, and for a second, the big stuff had vanished, and it was just them, laughing like they used to.

He knew she was changing the subject on purpose and he was okay with it. He had his own worried, in addition to hers. If Angel was back- would Drusilla appear as well?

* * *

"I can't sleep with him. Do you know how frustrating that is?"

"Yes." Will answered simply. "Hand me my new packet of picks."

"When did you start guitar?" She passed them to him.

"Summer."

"Oz?"

"Boy's a ruddy musical genius. He plays bass 'cause he likes it, but he can turn his hand to anything. If he'd gotten his shit together and come to finals, he'd be my bunk mate now, instead of Derek the wonder jerk."

"What's so bad about him? He's never here." Buffy spent her time between her house, Angel's place, William's dorm, and Giles' flat.

"He's trying to join some all drunken jock frat and spends every night being their houseboy. I don't even wanna know what that means." They shared a collective shudder.

Back to the topic at hand. "Don't have to be physical with that git."

"Don't call Angel a git."

"He is a git. He may have a soul, but he's annoyin' as hell."

"He's just sorry for how he acted and he thinks everyone hates him."

"I do. He's not as dumb as I thought." William nodded with momentary appreciation.

"But he's not responsible for what Angelus does! He apologized for what happened, but he can't change the past, so why -"

"Why do you think he hasn't apologized to me, then?" Will stopped tuning the black acoustic and rested it across his pillow. "I've seen him more than anyone else has, but he's never mentioned a word of 'Hey, sorry I tried to suck your town into hell', or 'Remember the time I chased you all through the warehouse district and told you you were gonna be 'Slayer Bait'? Sorry 'bout that.'" William did an unflattering impression of Angel lumbering along.

Buffy flushed in embarrassment and anger. "You don't make it easy."

"I don't have to! He broke six bones in my uncle's body. He has vision loss in his left eye, did you know that?" She blanched. She did not. "Yeah. He hit him right here, hard as he could." The angry college student gestured to the side of the left eye, heading towards the temple, "Partially detached a retina, but it's not bad enough for the docs to fix it, so he blunders along with a little bit of blur on the left. That happened this summer, too." The bitterness was evident.

"He did it to Giles. Giles forgave him."

"Then Rupert is better than I am. Your mum hasn't forgiven him."

Buffy rocked uneasily on the bed. "Mothers never like finding out you slept with a hunky older man."

" 'Specially when he's dead and psychotic."

"Ugh. You're impossible right now. You know that - that he wasn't the one who said those things, or did those things."

Will shrugged. "Yeah. Yeah, I do know that. If he'd say he was sorry, I might forgive him, I might not. But pretty damn hard to tell until he says it."

* * *

"Hey."

"Hey." They smiled awkwardly. "Patrol?"

"Slayage." Buffy smiled at her returned lover. "Then maybe we can meet Will at the campus coffee house? He's playing tonight."

"Oh. I- don't drink coffee."

"I know." Buffy hid the edge of frustration in her voice. "You listen to music though."

"Classical."

"It's_ William_. He's my best friend and I want to go see him play."

"Then go see him play, Buffy." Angel laughed with a note of bewilderment in his voice. "I don't know what the big deal is."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "The big deal is that it's my birthday next week. And I want to invite you both to my big 18th, okay? I'm not going to do that unless you're civil."

"I'm civil! I'm- I don't even talk to him that much, what could I say that's uncivil?"

"How about what you _haven't_ said that's uncivil?" Buffy pointed out. "An apology?"

"I- I apologized for everything Angelus did."

"To Will?"

"Of course!"

"Then why does he say you didn't?"

"Because- I don't know, maybe he doesn't like that I'm back. He never liked me with you." Angel said sullenly.

Buffy's eyes threatened to pop right out of their sockets. "You just said my best friend lied to me, because he doesn't like you."

"Buffy, can't you see how crazy he is about you?"

"I know that. We both know that. We're really, really close, there are times when the close is- bordering on more than best friends, but there's never, ever been a time when he tried to get between us."

"You can think that all you want." Angel began to stroll off quickly, making her run to keep up with his longer strides.

"Even if he did what you said- you still need to apologize so we can move on." Buffy panted.

"Buffy! I don't have anything else to say to- him. If you moved past it, your friends can, too."

"That's different, that's not, that's- I... I think I'll patrol by myself." Buffy gave up the conversation.

Angel's eyebrows lowered, making his already menacing brow seem even more threatening. "The Mayor has goons everywhere. This isn't a time to go it alone."

"I took down Angelus without you. I took on LA without you. I took on everything before I met you, and while you were gone, without you." Buffy turned sharply and angrily. "But I never said I'd be alone."

* * *

"Where's tall, dark, and broody?"

"Fighting with me."

"Well that's a turn up for the books." Will packed the guitar and took a cup of coffee from her. "Guy forgives you for stabbing him in the literal heart and you forgive him for stabbing you in the figurative one- what've you got left to fight about?"

"You."

"Oh."

* * *

"He said you lied."

"About what?" Will's voice echoed over the freshly opened grave.

"Him apologizing."

"I don't lie! I don't lie to you, anyway. An' I never bloody see him without you right around, so when was he s'posed to have made this big apology? Wrote me a note on pretty stationary an' sent it to the wrong address did he?"

"You're not helping."

"I'm not feelin' too helpful. I'll still patrol with you." William tucked the stake back in his pocket and retrieved his cup from the top of a grave stone.

"Can you help me study for my make up exam?"

"What? You've been back for three months."

"Snyder is a poophead?"

"Ah. Got it. I miss the other guy. Even if he did give us detention about once a week." William sighed and took a sip between the bouts of fighting.

"At least he doesn't look a constipated dwarf."

Will laughed so hard coffee shot from his nose. "There goes lookin' cool." He gasped and blinked his watering eyes.

"I'm sorry." Buffy handed him a napkin she scrounged from her coat pocket and dabbed at his shirt while he wiped his face. "Also, in case you didn't know it, every girl in that place was sitting in a puddle of drool from looking at you and listening to you sing. I can't wait to see you at a poetry reading. There might be fainting."

"Stop, my ego hurts. Let's go."

* * *

"You know, I've never lied to you."

"I think we said that."

"Yeah, but I was thinkin' about it. It brasses me off when that big-headed-wannabe-martyr lies about me lyin'."

"I think the- um- not having sex thing- makes it worse." Buffy confessed. "He knows if we wanted to, you and I could- do things he can't, even though we want to."

"We want to what?" Will was lost in the tangle of her words. Wanting. Sex. Wanting sex, they could have it, them, together...

"He's freaking because this isn't working out." Buffy finally admitted in a frustrated rush.

William was silent, stunned.

"This isn't working out." Buffy repeated, eyes welling. "But... I love him."

William reached out and grabbed her shoulder, sliding near her as they walked the dark streets. "He loves you, too, Pet. If you love someone enough, you'll work it out. Don't matter if he's a git, you love him." That just made her cry more. "Bugger it, I can live without the apology. I'm not gonna be pally with him, though." More tears. "Buffy! Stop, for God's sake, I'm trying to make you stop."

"I know!" She hugged him impulsively. "Thank you."

"Welcome."

"I-"

"You owe me. I know. One day I'm gonna have some real big collection."

* * *

"He never lied to me. You did though." Buffy ended date night before it began.

Angel shook his head. "When?"

"The night at the Bronze. I asked if Drusilla was gone, and you said she was."

"I didn't! I said her fledges were-" Angel stopped, caught.

"You let me think she was dead, lying without the words, Angel. She popped back up, and she and Angelus put me through hell for weeks. You put me at risk, letting me think that I wouldn't have to look out for her."

"You think it's easy to kill someone you- you feel responsible for, knowing you made her that way?"

Buffy frowned. "I know it's hard to kill the only man you've ever loved. I still did it, even though it almost killed me. I know it's hard. You could have said, 'I tried, I couldn't.' Something. Instead, when she popped up a couple days later, with Angelus... "

It wasn't noble. It wasn't typical, it was petty, but he gave into it. "William didn't kill her either." Angel said. "Do you know he had the chance?"

"Yeah. I did. 'Cause he told me. He told me she got in his head. Said she messed with his mind, and she bit him, and she kissed him. He staked her, but not in the heart, and then he ran away, bleeding to death. He had to get back to me to tell me what was said- the part about how you planned to kill him to break my heart." Her eyes burned, but tears wouldn't come. "You'd already done that. Still nice of him to tell me, wasn't it?"

Angel stared. "He's dangerous." He finally muttered. "Buffy, don't trust him."

"Why? What could he do? Sleep with me, then lose his soul and his mind and attack all the people closest to me? Been there, done that."

"So what do you want? You won't listen to me, I've said I'm sorry, I'll even say I'm sorry to him. You're right, I never really said it to him, spelled out." He shrugged huffily. "Thought it was obvious, but if he wants me to _say_ it..."

"That's all I want. I want you. I want you, and I want Will to be okay. You two don't have to like it each other."

"You spend a lot of time together. I think sometimes, that... it might have been better if I never came back. You deserve a normal life, a normal man."

"Shhh." Buffy kissed him hard and urgently. "Don't talk like that. Don't ever say things like that."

"But, Buffy-" he had to stop kissing her, kissing her made him want to do so much more, take comfort in her body as well as her love and forgiveness, and possessively claim her so another didn't.

"I can't do normal. I don't want normal anymore. I'm the Slayer."

* * *

"I think I'm losing my Slayer powers, and your uncle is being_ no_ help. None." Buffy stormed into his room. "Get out, Derek."

"But I-" The seldom seen jock moved from his bed.

"Out!" Will and Buffy screamed as one, and the rarely present Derek retreated hastily.

"What are you saying?"

"Arm wrestle me." Buffy held out her hand.

"No. I have a gig this weekend, I want use of my fingers." Will protectively pulled them back.

"Trust me, you'll still have them." Buffy shook her palm impatiently until he slipped his into it and they both pushed with all their might. She squeaked in pain and fell to the side before five seconds had passed.

William's eyes widened, concern mapped across his face. "Bloody hell, Luv, what-"

"I don't know! I asked Angel and Giles and even Willow, 'cause she's all spell book central lately, and nothing."

"Could you be ill? Is there Slayer Flu?"

"Maybe." She whimpered and lay across his bed. "I'm going to miss my own party."

"We'll throw it for you in hospital if we have to." William kissed her forehead. "You don't have a fever. You pukin' or anything?"

"No. Just feel all weak and wobbly. I was training with Giles today and I couldn't even hit the target. Not _any _spot on the target. As in the target was here," Buffy gestured weakly to the right, "and all my arrows went here." She flailed to the right. "My coordination sucks."

"Your coordination is pretty top notch, init?"

"Not to brag, but yes. Actually, _literally _best in the world."

"You take a few days off to rest. I'll do your runs for you. Angel can help, big wanker owes you some."

"Don't call him a wanker." She said pettishly, then confusion crossed her face. "What exactly is that?"

He grinned wickedly, bent over, and whispered it into her ear. She slapped him- or tried to. "That's pretty pathetic, Buff." He looked at her sympathetically as she missed him from close range.

"You're one too." Buffy flushed. "If it means you- do that thing I'm not repeating."

He blushed back. "Yeah, but, I do it in style." _Thinking of you. Sometimes Drusilla. Sometimes the chick with the scorpion tattoo. No. Always you, in some part or other. _His groin jumped a little with a shot of blood raging down to it. "Guess you're doin' the same things, if not the same methods. Now that you an' he... Or is he good enough to see to you?"

Buffy paled and the color rose right back up. "William." She sounded hurt and a little wigged.

He was too. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Buffy. I- I don't know what made me act like such a jerk, and I'm really sorry, Luv."

Buffy twitched. "He can't. It- it's too close to the edge. Once you start, you don't want to stop."

"That's right. I know you two would do anything to stop Angelus poppin' back up, an' I didn't mean it like that. Forgive me for bein' stupid?"

"Of course. It's in the contract."

"What contract?"

"The one right here." Her hand slowly dragged his to rest on her heart. And breast. Her mouth dried out. His seemed too wet, as he swallowed hard.

"Got it, Luv. Never gonna break it."

* * *

"Hey."

"Hello, Will, what brings you 'round?" His uncle looked exhausted, but managed to put an inch of effort in his voice.

"Buffy."

"Oh, yes?" The voice lost its perk.

"She's in my bed-"

"Oh, William!" Giles bolted upright. "Don't tell me these things, I- I try not to -rhm- visualize the moments that-"

"She's in my bed and she can barely see to put one foot in front of the other!" William pushed on loudly. "She's weak, too, but she didn't have a fever."

"She has been working very hard. The Mayor-"

"No, no, listen, Bertie, this isn't like that." William slipped into using his childhood name for his uncle, and Giles immediately softened. "I- I never thought to ask, and I don't think she would, but... she couldn't get some demon virus from sleepin' with Angel, could she? Something real slow moving? It's been about a year, but I know Slayers can fight off most stuff."

Giles coughed. "Humans and vampires have had sexual relations, not usually consensual, mind you, for centuries. Of the people who lived, no one has developed flu like symptoms a year later. At least, not to my knowledge."

"I can't figure it out. She's been sick before, but she could always whip me at anything. Today she couldn't even push my hand down."

Rupert's eyebrows rose slowly. "What were you doing to my girl that requires pushing your hand away?"

In spite of his concern, William smiled. "That's the first time you ever called her your girl, y'know that?"

"Well." He coughed. "I- we- have been closer lately. I realized I- I rather missed her while she was in LA."

Missed her like hell. He could tell when his uncle cried, knew the signs, because he was one of the few souls privy to seeing him breakdown after his sister's death. He'd seen the same symptoms after Buffy left, and that was only the few weeks between her disappearance and the time he left for London. Who knew what the rest of summer had been like?

"She asked me to arm wrestle her, innocent, I swear. But then- she actually fell over and she made this little sound- like it really hurt her, like she was surprised." William looked agonized. "She can't patrol like this. I'll take half the streets she covers, can you get broody boy to do the rest? Maybe you could go over and sit with her? Make her tea? Be solid?" He quirked a grin, for when was the Watcher ever anything else?

"I'll do that." Giles rose from his chair and paced a few times around it before going to get into a clean shirt. "...too much? Damn the..."

"What?" William called up the loft stairs. "Too much what?" There was an answering clatter. His eyes narrowed.

"Nothing. Just wondering if she's been doing too much."

* * *

The house was old and decrepit, unfit for human habitation. Unfortunately, the only thing they wanted to inhabit it was no longer human.

"You have to give her medication on the hour to keep her calm. She's much stronger than she looks. And don't be fooled by anything she says or does. If she gets her hands free, you'll be done for, you and Blair, both." A graying man, imperious in his words, inconspicuous in tweed, gave orders before he left.

"Will you be back in time to watch the battle, Sir?"

"No, and you should avoid it as well. Before nightfall tomorrow, turn the creature's cage to the sun, loosen the restraints from the outside, and leave. When Ms. Summers arrives tomorrow, she'll be escorted in and the doors and windows barred from the outside until the next dawn. We can all retire to my rooms at the hotel to wait. Their kitchen does a passable steak." With such mundane parting words, Travers stepped into his car and headed off to see Rupert Giles.

* * *

"Open up, demon."

"Nnn-mm." The vampire made a sound of refusal.

"Do you want me to put the cross in your box again?" Violent shaking and rattling was the answer.

"Think she means no." Hobson laughed.

Blair, younger and more inexperienced in this profession, felt a protest rising from his lips. "You'll hurt her and she won't be able to fight the Slayer."

"Nonsense. You're wet, Blair, vampires heal damn quick, what makes 'em so hard to kill, and the Slayer won't be putting up much of a fight anyway. Her Watcher will have been drugging her for days to get her nice an' soft."

"How can you talk like that?" Blair sounded horrified. The creature in the box was so small, and so lovely, and the Slayer as well, so young and such a beautiful girl. "They may kill each other, both die."

"That's the idea, you nonce. Here, she won't take it. Hand me the holy water, will you?"

* * *

"I protest. I- something is wrong with the medication supplied." Giles laid out the antique administration set before Travers, his boss. "I've no idea how old it is to begin with."

"Not past its shelf life. Let me think- I suppose it was fourteen years ago we last had a girl make it to eighteen..." Travers sipped his tea placidly.

"Fourteen years is a long time for things to ferment. I followed the prescribed dosage, but it's been far too strong. She's not just powerless, she's- she's helpless. She's easily exhausted, weak, her coordination isn't just normal, it's impaired! She can't take the test."

The teacup was set down with precise disapproval. "You are unable to make that call. That is the Council's decision. You may regard_ me _as the Council."

"Then I implore the Council to listen to reason. If you send her in there now, against Kralik, she will die. You will lose the best slayer you have ever had."

"You feel so strongly about her survival? About her abilities?" Travers asked.

Giles hesitated. This sounded innocuous enough, yet every word was a double-edged sword with this man.

"I do." He finally said.

"I see."

* * *

"What are you doing here?" William let his uncle in, almost knocked backwards as he pushed past him into the dorm room.

"Where's Buffy?" Giles' head whipped around the small space frantically.

"At home! I dropped her off hours ago, what's the matter?"

"I've been a bloody fool."

William's eyes slitted and he grabbed the Watcher's arm. "Do you know something about what's making her sick an' you didn't tell her? Didn't tell me?"

"Yes, and you can shout at me later, the main thing now-" A fist to the jaw cut off his words.

William, seething, watched his uncle stagger back a step, and was immediately torn between remorse and fury. He blended both, apologizing sullenly while pulling him towards the door. "Sorry, I just- how could you do that? I thought the Watcher was supposed to look after her, help her?"

"For one day, the Watcher is supposed to simply watch, and see if his training and her skills are enough." Giles whispered, quickening his pace.

* * *

"You don't have to fight. Simply _do not go_. They can't make you, and they can't fire you."

Buffy laughed bitterly. "I wish they would." Her gaze shifted from ceiling to contrite, worried Watcher. "Can they fire_ you_? If I don't go?"

"That doesn't matter." Giles replied staunchly. "I wouldn't mind if they did right now, to be honest." He forced a single chuckle. "Quite fed up with Travers and his insistence on barbaric, archaic customs."

Will looked at Buffy and saw she knew that his uncle was fronting. He loved the job, and he was good at it. "If she stops getting those meds, will she get better by tomorrow?"

"No. Well, yes, somewhat, but not strong enough to kill this Kralik."

"What's a Kralik?"

"A deranged serial killer turned vampire."

"Three levels of nasty." William muttered.

"Exactly. You'll feel better, but you won't be ready." He didn't say that this was how Travers said it should be. That the girls weren't supposed to be merely robbed of their slayer capabilities, they were to be weakened completely, weak for mere humans as well. He couldn't believe it, he wouldn't be part of it, not any longer. "Listen to me, Buffy. I want you to stay in this house, no matter what happens. You need to. Do you understand?"

"But-"

"I will handle Travers, you just promise me that you'll _stay here_."

She reluctantly agreed.

Giles sighed in relief. "Very good. I'm going to go speak to your mother, tell her that you're very ill from some- slayer virus, and you need to remain indoors tomorrow."

"Oh, wait, my party is-"

"We can come here." Will said quickly.

"Mom isn't very happy on the Angel front." Buffy admitted.

"Then we can postpone it." Giles said firmly. "This takes priority." He left the two teens alone in her room.

"Are you gonna listen to him?" William finally asked quietly.

Buffy hesitated. "I want to."

"But?"

"What if that guy gets out? Am I supposed to let him munch on people?"

"Can't Angel handle it?" He asked, wishing so hard that it hurt, that _he_ could be the one to offer to handle it. _But I can't be. Weak. Always the weak one, the sensitive boy, the poet, the musician. The brains without much brawn. I'm fast, getting stronger, and I'm getting better at fighting, better at everything. But when she really needs someone, it's that bloody vampire who takes her place._

_Who takes her place._ The words trickled ominously into his brain and stayed there, until she wiped it out with her next sentence.

"Angel could kill the baddie, but what if it's like they send another one and another one until I face it?"

"You'll be better by that time, though." Will protested.

"I'll stay in- unless something crazy unexpected happens, okay?"

He had to be content with that.

* * *

"Pretty man, pretty man, nice man, will you come here?" The voice chanted like a nursery rhyme, a sinister one, coming from a full body box with only a tiny window for her face.

Blair hesitated. Hobson was asleep. They weren't supposed to approach her without the other watching. She was slippery. And strong. Hadn't she been Kralik's replacement since she killed him herself? "You're not due for your dose yet."

"Don't want pills, want to play."

He was silent._ Don't talk to her, or engage her. This one is dangerous. Dangerous in a pretty, innocent package._ He couldn't believe her history, her the black bride of that Angelus...

"You think it's odd." Drusilla's voice coaxed. "That they took such a wilted flower as me and put me in the nasty iron vase." She made a sudden lunge forward, and the crate rocked. He smothered a gasp and swallowed hard as she laughed. "You can't even see me, can you? And you want to. You wonder what's on the other side of the door."

He did. He hadn't been on the team to capture her, and she'd been in the box for the entire time he'd seen her, with just that tiny five by five space, to reveal a flawless, youthful face, dark blue eyes, high arched brows, an impish mouth that closed sensuously around the spoon, with a tongue that daintily licked up drops of her feedings.

"You could take a peek. I won't tell the mean man." Drusilla's voice hardened on the last word. The other one burnt her and teased her. She would make him pay. She'd kill him and let the pretty one eat him all up. Such a good mummy.

"I can't open the door. Orders."

"You can't open the door because they think I'll get away- slip!" Her talon-like nails scratched silently and repetitively, had done for three days straight, working away, until one wrist was only bound by a leather thread. "But I promise- for you, pretty man, I'll stay right in my box, the whole time." She would. She'd reach in with her free hand, and grab him tight, pull him in until he was all hers.

Her words were winding in his head. Sensible things seemed less sensible, and she was sweet reason. "No." He remembered he was supposed to say no.

"But I'm so lonely." The voice changed to a pitiful tone, a lark with a broken wing couldn't sing more sadly. "My daddy's missing, and I'm all alone. Can't reach my golden boy, but he's ever so close. Both of them, so close..." Drusilla's tone was pained to the utmost, a heart of stone would have cracked from her distress.

He walked closer. "I- don't know where they are, miss."

She almost smiled. Calling her "miss", instead of demon or creature or vampire. He saw her as a person. She turned her profile towards the frame of the window, bowed her head and assumed her mourning swan position, tears on thick black lashes, single drops cascading down marble cheeks. Eyes fluttered once, and her mouth curved into a smile in the shadows where he couldn't see it as she heard him slowly lifting the latches.

* * *

"I went. That wasn't Zachary Kralik. This guy was English, much younger, much shorter. And new." Angel grunted as he gave his report in the Watcher's flat, shades drawn, blocking the early light.

"It wasn't Kralik? Travers never corrected me. Why wouldn't he inform me of her opponent? He didn't know my objections initially." Giles frowned.

Angel hesitated. "Maybe he knew you'd object if it was someone Buffy had run ins with before. Making it personal."

"Well- the only two vampires Buffy has ever dealt with but not finished are you-"

"Angelus." Angel corrected stiffly.

"And Drusilla" Giles froze. "Oh no. Not her?"

"I know her scent. It's her." Angel raked his hands across his already carefully raked hair. "I haven't talked to her since- Acathla." He coughed. "She's probably pretty mad about that. Buffy ruining her plans and-"

"Killing her sire, lover, and father figure after she just got him back? Yes. Livid. If she hadn't been injured in the battle prior, and Buffy hadn't run off for months, I imagine Drusilla's primary objective would have been to take her revenge on her."

"You'd think." Angel said worriedly. "You never know though."

* * *

"Didn't you know I was in town? You didn't come to visit me, so I came to see you."

William dropped the book he was holding as a voice crept through the shadows, into his ear. _Dreaming. Must be dreaming._ He looked across the room. The other bed was vacant. His door was shut. Fell asleep writing a poem for her birthday. Woke up dreaming of the other one, because- well- because they were connected somehow, in dreams and poems.

"I can't come in and see you unless you ask me nicely." The voice tittered.

"Bloody hell." He shot up in bed, heart thundering. _Not a dream. _

"Funny rules about hotels and halls... allowed in the lobby, but not the rooms, isn't that a silly rule, my sweet William?"

He staggered up and opened the door, standing well back. Too early for any other college student to be up, barely six. But once they were up- oh God, she'd have dozens of people, walking in the halls, out of the sanctity of their rooms, a buffet of young lives to end. "Leave. Leave now."

"Soon. Soon, the sunshine is coming and I think we'd be more cozy in the dark, Sweet William."

"Don't call me that."

"But you are my sweetness. So bright inside your bud, and you come in different colors, lily white, blood red. You're meant to stick your head through the snow, but stay out of the light."

Entranced, entrapped, lost, he had one clear thought. _She's involved somehow. She didn't come back to town just to make up metaphors outside my door. _"You here for the Slayer?"

"For you, first. She's quick, and you're worth so much more to me. She's a dolly to break, and I want to play with you." The suggestion in her tone was evident.

"Well, you can get lost." William suddenly snarled, waking up from her words and their thrall. "I'm not your bleedin' toy, and the only sort of play you're gonna get from me is a game of 'Ashes, Ashes, All Fall Down'." He flipped a stake from his coat pocket as he grabbed it off the back of his desk chair.

Drusilla hissed and backed up, a sudden showing of cat-like temper inside her Victorian facade. "Fine. You don't want to play, I'll take the other one. The old, soft ewe. Always bleating for her lost lamb. I remember what Angelus did to my mummy. I never tried it for myself..." She slunk back slowly, then blurred the air, a wisp of white cloud tearing down the hall, down the emergency exit to a dark stairwell as the door alarms began to peal.

He threw on a shirt, jeans, stuffed his feet into boots, and tore after her. No time to warn Buffy, and Joyce would be home, where Buffy was, and he wasn't about to let her get there. _Just have to cut her off, before she gets anywhere near Joyce or Buffy._

* * *

"Will's not answering his phone." Buffy hung up after leaving a third message.

"He's probably at class." Angel sat on the edge of her bed, ostensibly keeping her company, in actuality keeping her there. "He's a college student after all." The vampire said uncomfortably. William the college student, William the human, William who wasn't carrying a demon inside of him, William the best friend, the normal one.

She nodded at his words, but then she looked at the calendar. "No, he's not. It's a Tuesday. He doesn't have classes this early."

Angel frowned. Her knowledge of his schedule seemed too intimate, and though he felt like he couldn't be the man Buffy should have for her future, he didn't know if he wanted William to have her either. He never liked the English... He never considered that Buffy wasn't really his to give, either.

"I have a bad feeling." Buffy whispered to herself. It was daylight. Angel couldn't go over and check on him, not easily anyway, and Giles was out dealing with the Council. Mom was at work, safe enough in her sunny shop, she thought. "Can you take me over there?"

"Huh? No, Buffy, stay here. William's fine." Angel answered quickly.

"But that Kralik guy- why the jumpy?"

"I'm not jumpy!" Angel twitched suddenly.

"When I said Kralik you- you did it again! Did you know him in the old days?"

"Uh- no, not really. Heard of him, but uh- no." Angel hadn't told her. Giles, when sending him over to protect and guard the weakened Slayer, had told him to brief her about the new developments. Yet somehow protective instincts had been misplaced, and he went for the blanket approach of, "Don't worry about a thing, I'm here now." Which meant he had told her nothing about going over there and facing a recently turned human, finding no signs of Kralik, just Drusilla.

"You said he wasn't there last night, just someone left to guard the place, right?"

"That's right." And technically true.

"So he's loose, or he was under wraps until I show up." Buffy sank back on her pillows. Angel didn't answer.

There wasn't a way he could tell an untruth without it being a lie this time. "Buffy, the Council ended up using another vamp. I'll find her tonight. She can't come in here unless you invite her, so there's no reason to worry."

"There is so! Why didn't Giles tell me it was someone else?

"I um- I was going to tell you when I saw you today, but we got busy. Giles didn't know either. Until I told him. It doesn't matter, we didn't want to worry you."

She weakly pushed herself up, muscles aching like she was in the depths of some plague. "I'm sorry. Are you telling me all morning you 'forgot' to tell me _who_ I'm supposed to meeting some big, fateful coming of age battle?"

"Drusilla is my responsibility and I- where are you going? Buffy! You need to rest." Angel tried to lead her back to bed as she suddenly threw her feet over the edge and began to rise.

"Drusilla? Drusilla the nut job who has thrall and likes to torture people, and make herself new 'toys'? _That_ Drusilla is the deranged master vampire I'm supposed to take down?"

"You can't right now. In a few days you'll be better and then you'll face her." Angel worried about that moment.

"She has a thing for Will." Buffy ducked under his arm as she wasn't strong enough to push him off.

"She had a thing for you, too!"

"That was so she could put together the Judge-in-a-box. I don't know why she has a sick fascination with Will, but she does, and she's here in town, he's not answering his phone. I don't care if you think I'm leaping to conclusions, I don't care if you think it's stupid to go over there like this, but I'm going." She pulled on a sweater as she spoke and moved to her weapons chest by the foot of her frilly white bed.

"Buffy, this isn't smart, even if Will is in trouble, he wouldn't want you to put yourself at risk too." Angel knelt with her and stilled her hands in his own. "He cares about you._ I _care about you. I _love_ you."

They didn't say it often enough these days, and hearing him mention it warmed her heart, momentarily mended the rifts between them. Buffy let their lips meet and melt together for a moment, then pulled back regretfully. "C'mon, help me get ready."

"You're still going? Buffy, let me go." He looked towards the window, and then steeled himself. If it was light out, then Dru was in the dark, and he would be, too. "I'll find her, I can track her." Angel tried to press her into a sitting position, but instead she turned and grabbed a handful of stakes and a crossbow.

"Good, you do that. What's that building you said you went to?"

"The old Sunnydale Arms, it's an old boarding house."

"I know it. I'll go straight there." She decided as she slung the weapons haphazardly in a bag and heaved it onto her shoulder. "When did these get so heavy?" Buffy staggered under the weight.

"Going straight there to fight a vampire when you can't even lift a stake?" Angel demanded incredulously.

"Well, if I'm going to fight her, I don't have energy to track her, go walking around half the city, too. So I can do one or the other, not both. I figure she'll be taking tunnels, right? At least until dark?" Buffy adjusted the bag and pushed her hair back into a limp ponytail.

"You're not making sense." Even though she was. Good strategy- if you were in any kind of fighting shape. "Look, what's going to happen if I do track her-"

"Flush them towards me if you can." Buffy seemed to tune out all his protests.

"You are going to get yourself killed." Angel shouted at this point, grabbed her back and shook her shoulders lightly. "Are you listening to _anything_ I'm telling you? Are you thinking at all?"

Buffy disengaged herself and backed away, hurt in her eyes. "I'm thinking about William being held hostage by some lunatic who wants to eat him!"

Angel winced.

Buffy's voice softened. "If it was you, you know I'd go."

"Even like this? Even if someone else said they could handle it for you?"

She shook her head slowly. "You don't get it. There are some people you can't- can't hand over to someone else. Even if you should. Even if it'd be smarter, or safer. You just can't let them go."

Angel followed her down the stairs, severely tempted to use force to restrain her. What else could he say? No arguments worked. Everything that should work seemed to make no impact in her cloudy mind.

_No. One thing reaches her._

_ William._

* * *

"What exactly do you want with me?" He trailed her through shadows and street corners, into the underbelly of sewers where her dress caught the edges of water and made him a trail of wet sweeping marks to follow.

His questions and calls were usually met with giggles. This was all some merry chase to her, a game, or maybe a ritual, cat and mouse, perhaps. Only, he was losing track of the positions of predator and prey. Why was he trying to catch her, when she'd come to catch him?

"I'm done runnin'!" He finally bellowed. "You come to me an' you settle this, you're the one who started it!" He gripped the stake in his hand.

Footsteps stopped ahead. A whisper of a rustle, and something slammed into him in the dark, knocking him back against dark walls. He struggled to sit her up, keeping her teeth from his neck.

"Don't be cross, Sweet William." She purred and pouted. "I didn't think it hurt you the last time." Her hands freed themselves from his grip, and one cool finger touched the scar that wouldn't fade. "I think you liked it. You like the snip snap, the little bit of pain in your pleasure. I felt you press against me, flower between the pages of a book." Her other hand found his and led it down between her thighs, up into the hollow space where her dress bunched around his fist. "Pressed between, you long for that. Aren't you between, life and death, and dark and light? Lost lamb. I know what it's like, you see." She gently kissed his earlobe and rocked against his fingers as he pulled away.

"You wanna bite me, bite me, but don't dress it up."

Now the voice shook, carefully controlled madness mixed with rejection. "Don't tell lies to me. I see inside your pretty mind. And oh-" the voice lilted, enraptured, "it _is _pretty. Ever so beautiful." Now she was looking at the cement culvert overhead, but speaking to the heavens. "He's glowing. But is it sunshine you want, or do you like the stars?"

He swallowed. There were stars in her eyes. Big, blue stars, and they weren't- they weren't _cold_ like other vampiric eyes he'd seen in his two odd years of battling alongside Buffy. She was special. And maybe she was partially right. How he pressed to her, the last time, how he had followed her this time, maybe it meant something.

"You're the stars, aren't you?" William asked. Drusilla nodded eagerly. "I'm not the sun. I'm not stars, either." The stake shifted from coat to hand silently- but he'd never realized silent is relative to the listener. Drusilla smacked his wrist sharply and the stake fell beside him.

"You have to choose." Drusilla grinned. "No taking the easy way out." She snapped the words off as his weapon rolled just out of reach.

"Who said it was easy?" His hands tangled with hers, but they weren't pulling away this time. They reached up, stroked her raven hair, and pallid skin. She was cold and dark, the ocean at night, waiting for him to swim in dangerous waters.

"So lonesome. I need light. His fire's gone all out, you see." Drusilla half crawled into his lap.

"Angel?"

"Shh. Angel killed my Angelus. Lord and Master. Oh, such a wicked, wicked master." She shivered deliciously, eyes shuttered in pleasure. When they opened, they were curiously fixed on his. "You're quite wicked yourself."

He swallowed. "Depends on your definition of wicked, princess."

She whispered in his ear, dark deeds he'd dreamed of, dark thoughts that came to him unbidden, of blood and lust, death and pain, all mixed together in poetic confusion. "You're not truly wicked. Oh, you _could_ be wicked, fully wicked. You've talents in there, my William, untold talents. You've been hurt so much, and you'll be terrible in your vengeance." Drusilla whispered gleefully. He began to protest, and she shushed him, finger gently on his lips. "Not now. You're simply longing for what you want, any way you can have it. And since you don't know what you want, that's going to be the fun part..." her finger caressed down his chin, as her lips came out, "...finding out."

_She's wrong. _William let himself be kissed, he kissed back, and this time when she started opening to him, he didn't pull away.

_I know what I want. I want Buffy. I want this to be Buffy. _All _of this._ Her fangs sank into his neck, much less violently then he'd imagined, as his body sank into hers.

His eyes closed, and mouth opened, gasping out, "Buffy..."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time._

_Author's Second Note: I apologize for some confusion/ wrong conclusions readers may have experienced in the last chapter. I hope that by reading through this, things become clear. _

_Author's Third Note: There is a small section of the previous chapter leading off this chapter. You're still in the right place. All due credit to Nickel, for use of their lyrics to _Stupid Thing_._

_Dedicated to Illusera, Tesslouise, Omslagspapper, JM89, AGriffinWriter, Rihannon, Jhiz, The Darkness Befalls, TieDyeJackson, Sirius120, and Ginar369. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part III**

"What exactly do you want with me?" He trailed her through shadows and street corners, into the underbelly of sewers where her dress caught the edges of water and made him a trail of wet sweeping marks to follow.

His questions and calls were usually met with giggles. This was all some merry chase to her, a game, or maybe a ritual, cat and mouse, perhaps. Only, he was losing track of the positions of predator and prey. Why was he trying to catch her, when she'd come to catch him?

"I'm done runnin'!" He finally bellowed. "You come to me an' you settle this, you're the one who started it!" He gripped the stake in his hand.

Footsteps stopped ahead. A whisper of a rustle, and something slammed into him in the dark, knocking him back against dark walls. He struggled to sit her up, keeping her teeth from his neck.

"Don't be cross, Sweet William." She purred and pouted. "I didn't think it hurt you the last time." Her hands freed themselves from his grip, and one cool finger touched the scar that wouldn't fade. "I think you liked it. You like the snip snap, the little bit of pain in your pleasure. I felt you press against me, flower between the pages of a book." Her other hand found his and led it down between her thighs, up into the hollow space where her dress bunched around his fist. "Pressed between, you long for that. Aren't you between, life and death, and dark and light? Lost lamb. I know what it's like, you see." She gently kissed his earlobe and rocked against his fingers as he pulled away.

"You wanna bite me, bite me, but don't dress it up."

Now the voice shook, carefully controlled madness mixed with rejection. "Don't tell lies to me. I see inside your pretty mind. And oh-" the voice lilted, enraptured, "it _is _pretty. Ever so beautiful." Now she was looking at the cement culvert overhead, but speaking to the heavens. "He's glowing. But is it sunshine you want, or do you like the stars?"

He swallowed. There were stars in her eyes. Big, blue stars, and they weren't- they weren't _cold_ like other vampiric eyes he'd seen in his two odd years of battling alongside Buffy. She was special. And maybe she was partially right. How he pressed to her, the last time, how he had followed her this time, maybe it meant something.

"You're the stars, aren't you?" William asked. Drusilla nodded eagerly. "I'm not the sun. I'm not stars, either." The stake shifted from coat to hand silently- but he'd never realized silent is relative to the listener. Drusilla smacked his wrist sharply and the stake fell beside him.

"You have to choose." Drusilla grinned. "No taking the easy way out." She snapped the words off as his weapon rolled just out of reach.

"Who said it was easy?" His hands tangled with hers, but they weren't pulling away this time. They reached up, stroked her raven hair, and pallid skin. She was cold and dark, the ocean at night, waiting for him to swim in dangerous waters.

"So lonesome. I need light. His fire's gone all out, you see." Drusilla half crawled into his lap.

"Angel?"

"Shh. Angel killed my Angelus. Lord and Master. Oh, such a wicked, wicked master." She shivered deliciously, eyes shuttered in pleasure. When they opened, they were curiously fixed on his. "You're quite wicked yourself."

He swallowed. "Depends on your definition of wicked, princess."

She whispered in his ear, dark deeds he'd dreamed of, dark thoughts that came to him unbidden, of blood and lust, death and pain, all mixed together in poetic confusion. "You're not truly wicked. Oh, you _could_ be wicked, fully wicked. You've talents in there, my William, untold talents. You've been hurt so much, and you'll be terrible in your vengeance." Drusilla whispered gleefully. He began to protest, and she shushed him, finger gently on his lips. "Not now. You're simply longing for what you want, any way you can have it. And since you don't know what you want, that's going to be the fun part..." her finger caressed down his chin, as her lips came out, "...finding out."

_She's wrong. _William let himself be kissed, he kissed back, and this time when she started opening to him, he didn't pull away.

_I know what I want. I want Buffy. I want this to be Buffy. _All _of this._ Her fangs sank into his neck, much less violently then he'd imagined, as his body sank into hers.

His eyes closed, and mouth opened, gasping out, "Buffy..."

"I don't like when you say her name like that. You're only supposed to have eyes for me- and if you don't, I'll pluck them out and send them to her." Drusilla scolded her reluctant lover as he whispered another's name.

_ Maybe this is what Buffy means- the edge. The bad urges an' the good feelings... but the truth wins, doesn't it? _"I love her, I don't love you." William was honest, even though he was clinging onto this dark beauty, pushing into her as she bore down on him.

"Naughty. You won't feel that way when she's dead, though. You'll learn. You'll learn it's nothing to do with love."

"What's it to do with, then?"

"Pleasure." She squeezed him. "Pain." She tore the skin of his brow with a sudden gouging nail. When he winced, she purred like a jungle cat. "Giving the demon its due."

"Why's it due... anything?" Will asked. Blood poured over his eye and down his collar now. The monster on top of him changed from blue eyes to amber and lapped at both punctures in his skin.

"Gives you life, you give it life. But the lives are both taken in death. It's a circle of life and death, a rose and a thorn."

"What happens if- you don't feed it life?"

"Oh, you have to. Give it blood or it gets cranky and weak and it won't come to tea on Tuesdays."

Sorting the nonsense from the fact, William asked another question. "Angel lives off of beef blood. He's in control of his demon, isn't he?"

She snarled and nipped at him. "Soul curse. We don't have those."

"Well, I like my ruddy soul." William snarled back. The blood loss made him light headed, and her body confused his, but he remembered one thing. He needed to get out of this okay, 'cause he promised it to Buffy, years ago. _Hafta be okay... Have to make it back..._

"You won't miss it. I did at first, but it's only until the demon wakes the first time."

He feigned consideration, time to distract her, as well as genuine curiosity. "An' then it's better?"

"Yes, you'll wake up, so hungry, so very, very hungry. But mummy'll have treats for you, Sweet William. I'll even share the Slayer with you, make you grow up big and strong." She reached down and caressed his length between the movements inside her. "Very big, indeed, the blood of a Slayer... they say it'll do things to you, make you invincible. We'll drink her together. I'll be queen, you be my dark prince?"

His eyes fluttered dangerously, the blackness of the tunnel seemed even more black than before. "Not gonna- hurt... the Slayer."

"_You_ won't. The demon will." This seemed to excite her, and she rocked forward to him, head bowed to his as she whispered eagerly, "You'll be fading away, and the demon will rule."

"Not... me."

"Brave boy, you can think it all you want, but your first kill- you won't be able to help it. The hunger is something you can't fight. No. Options." She bit his ear smartly between words. "Play. By. The. Demon's. Rules."

"I... don't give... a fuck... for the... rules!"

She felt his hands pull back for balance- and something else. She shrieked and screeched, pulling off of him, and then flying back onto him, this time in pure rage as she realized what he was doing.

"Use me, will you? How dare you play with the gifts I offer you?" She seemed genuinely distraught, and William could see again how glaring her madness was.

"It's not a gift, is it?" William staked her, only in the shoulder as they were grappling before she fully had the advantage again. "It's not a gift to me, it's a gift to you! You're lonely- buy a soddin' parakeet!"

The last thing he remembered was her hand wheeling hard across his face as she yanked the stake free. He realized as the world swam that his attempt to stand failed, and concrete tunnels rushed up to meet him.

* * *

Angel winced at the scents. Blood. Sex. Drusilla and William. Disgusting. This patch of the tunnel was full of it. He rumbled in his throat, anger boiling in him. Multiple types of anger.

Incredulous. _He's supposed to be her best friend, what the hell is he doing sticking it to Drusilla? She wants to kill Buffy! What kind of best friend sleeps with the person trying to kill you?_

Remorseful. _She might have done things to him, to make him think ... to make him think _anything_.I saw what she did to Giles to make him talk, make him think he was talking to someone he trusted... I taught her how to play the worst kind of mind games. She probably made him think he was making love to Buffy._

Jealousy. _I bet that was it. I bet he wants that bad enough to let her do anything she wants. She bit him. I bet he didn't even mind. Freak._

Concerned. W_hat am I doing? What am I saying? Buffy's going to die when she finds out William's been bit. What if he's dead? Oh, please, _please_ don't let him be dead. Or if he is dead, let him_ stay _dead. No one should have to stake their best friend..._

* * *

"You sit right there. You're not quite done yet." Drusilla pressed him into a chair, roping his wrists to it loosely, and then laid her head to his chest. Stubborn heart. Still boom-thudding away, though it seemed ever softer, and the breathing was out of tune. "I hope you'll be ready by the time dinner arrives. I could speed it up, but I do so hate when we fight. You look so much lovelier like this. My sleeping angel." She kissed his forehead, licked his bleeding brow, and fussed around him, cooing a little lullaby in her demented cross between mother, lover, and captor. The word "angel" earned a quirking of his lips, even as he was dying.

"You're right, you can't be that. Nor a devil, for you have too much of the sunshine in you... You're the edge between them, that little spike of darkness in the light, and light in the blackness. Somebody's fly in the ointment, too."

"No." A voice from the stairwell made Drusilla straighten up quickly and face the sound. "That'd be me." Buffy, pale and pissed off looking, stood in the shadows, ready to shoot her crossbow from the hip once Drusilla was away from her best friend.

"Naughty girl, you came in without knocking." Drusilla vamped and put herself between the boy and the Slayer.

Buffy's lips tightened as Drusilla seemed to guard her prize. "No one was home." Buffy shrugged innocently, walking down the steps slowly, holding a heavy crossbow in her hand, keeping it from shaking with effort that caused her muscles to scream.

"You're ruining my tea party. You're too early." Drusilla said petulantly.

"Well, you kinda screwed up my birthday party- twice. Give Will back and let's call it even." Buffy tried not to faint when she looked past the figure, blood soaked and spattered white dress bearing evidence of what she'd done to the slumped figure in the chair, himself now a mess of black and white and blood red. "You- let me get him out of here, and I'll let_ you_ walk out of here." A dangerous bargain to make, but she didn't care. Will would do it for her. There are people you put above everyone else, even when you know you shouldn't...

It didn't matter. Drusilla wouldn't cooperate. "He won't be your friend soon. He'll be_ my_ Sweet William, my Spike, shining up, all through me." Her hands ran down the front of her dress, over breasts and past her thighs, looking hungrily enraptured.

Buffy blanched. "What do you mean _soon_?"_ I heard her talking to him. So he can't be dead. Unless he's undead. Or she just felt like talking to him, because, hey she's looney and she's a dead person, too. I don't see any real barriers to conversation after all._

"His heart beat for you, once." Drusilla purred. A smarter demon would have made the kill and been done. She was trained by Angelus. A good kill is never worth as much as a good time, he'd taught her that, and so she danced them round. "But when his heart is still, it'll belong to me. Always."

"I don't think so." Buffy whispered, coming closer. Risky, but she had no aim, was losing strength as she spoke. The shot had to be short range, dead through the heart. "You don't know him like I do."

"You don't know him as much as you think you do..." The vampire made a pirouette suddenly, and launched herself into Buffy, yellow eyes and slick fangs manifesting. "Boo."

* * *

There was grappling in the foyer of the ground floor, and stillness in the dilapidated parlor where William slumped, heart pumping more slowly by the second.

Moments passed, not many, but to Buffy, they seemed like hours. She was so focused on the man in front of her, that she forgot about the men who'd been behind her in their various roles. There seemed to be splintering in unison, doors breaking down or smashing in.

Angel came up from the basement, Giles came in through the front, hellbent on helping save Buffy.

They didn't expect her to be more concerned about saving William.

"Buffy!" Giles shouted, bursting in, as Angel yelled, "Buffy, look out!"

Confusion, shouting, sunlight. Angel and Drusilla both in its harmful rays, temporarily splitting the foursome, humans in the light, Angel by the basement door, Drusilla retreating towards the dark, creaking stairwell. Only one figure didn't move.

"Buffy, finish it!" Angel tossed her a stake once he observed her weaponless state. He motioned her frantically to cross the sun's path and follow the demon.

Buffy ignored him and turned away from both vampires, after something different and more important than revenge or duty. "Will? Will! Will, Will, _Will_, _William!_" Her frantic cries increased in tempo and desperation, though they went unanswered as she pushed past debris to her bound friend.

Giles saw what had occurred for the first time. Stricken, he was immobile for a second, then he moved with lightning speed to his nephew's side. "Will? Come along, now, Will, look at me..." He took his wrist in hand and passed Buffy a handkerchief to press to the slowly trickling neck wounds. "He's been badly bitten, but he has a pulse!"

"Thank God."

"Buffy!" Angel called, but there was no reaction to his panicked tone as Drusilla's footsteps were heard on the groaning boards overhead. With an impatient sigh he pulled his long leather coat over his face and sprinted through the shafts of afternoon sun to chase down the vampire.

"Do you have your car?" Buffy asked as Giles half carried, half dragged the unconscious body.

"I did, I came from Travers' hotel. Arrogant bastard wouldn't listen to reason, I- I thought perhaps I could -"

"Come over and take care of the crazy vampire for me? Seems like you Giles men have a dangerous streak when it comes to women." Buffy tried to joke through her tears.

"No, darling." His own face was wet, tears and sweat mingling. "Only when it comes to you."

* * *

She escaped out of boarded windows, scorching in the sun until she rolled and hid, quaking with pain and anger in the bushes, then running again, for the tunnels. Angel followed closed behind, but never quite caught up with her. He told himself it was because he knew it was more important to get back to Buffy, but he also knew how much old pains make you lie.

* * *

"Your actions are reprehensible on multiple counts."

"I don't care." Giles stonily stared down the unwelcome presence in the empty hospital waiting room. "This is not the time, nor the place."

"It doesn't matter, time and place are immaterial at this moment. I'm sorry for your nephew's involvement, but that is one of the key factors I wish to address."

"I'm getting my strength back." Buffy said tonelessly from behind her Watcher. "You should leave before I kick your tweedy ass."

"Nonetheless." Travers smiled coldly at her, then looked icily at Giles. "First, the preparations for the test- you failed to administer the medication properly. You failed to keep the element of surprise necessary to accurately gauge a Slayer's abilities under fire. You argued with the testing protocol. Secondly, the administration of the actual test. You encouraged mutinous behavior in your Slayer. You failed to keep civilians out of the testing area. You tried to usurp the Council's will and attempted to fight in your Slayer's place."

Buffy looked at Giles as these points were tolled from the stern-faced head of Council.

It was like she'd never really seen her Watcher before. _All the time we spend watching and looking- and not really seeing, huh? _"You- did all that for me?"

He didn't reply. Travers shook his head. "You are no longer an 'objective' Watcher."

"I am hopeful that no one would be 'objective' in the scenario I witnessed unfolding today." Giles replied, back ramrod stiff, eyes unflinching.

"You are relieved of your duties, effective immediately. You have grown to love your charge, and are therefore no longer to be trusted in assigning her tasks."

"No. That makes him the _only_ one I trust to assign me anything." Buffy came forward slowly, and took Giles' hand. "You can relieve him all you want, but this man-" her fingers gripped his tighter, "will always be my Watcher."

Travers was unmoved. "Ms. Summers, yes, on to you. Your test results are inconclusive. You reached the house within the time limit, that is, on your 18th birthday while still under the effects of the medication. You attempted to fight the target unassisted. It is my belief that you didn't ask anyone to fight in your place. You lost the vampire, Drusilla, but you saved the life of an innocent man by rushing him to the hospital. You did fail to prevent his attack, but that in part is due to Council error."

"You mean the part where the guards were_ eaten, _and the_ vampire _got loose?" Buffy glared.

He continued unperterbed. "My personal recommendation is that you be assigned another test once your new Watcher arrives." He sighed. "However, I feel the Council will look unfavorably upon that request as it seems you have quite a lot to attend to, with the Hellmouth and all."

"Yes, those pesky _actual_ duties." Giles said sarcastically.

"Send whatever you want. Whoever you want. I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing. Saving people. Killing baddies. Not being poisoned. Excuse me, I have to go celebrate the last few hours of my birthday with my best friend- if he's still breathing."

She pushed past Travers, and Giles turned to follow her. Nothing the little man now standing alone in the waiting room seemed to matter much at this point.

* * *

It was just a minute. A brief minute when he was alone, nothing but machines and soft beeps of life support and blood transfusers. In the stillness came a "tap tap" on the glass and he heard her soft voice asking to come in. He murmured a puzzled, "Come," in a half awake voice, barely whispering through his inflamed throat.

"The Angel-beast has been running me round and round, but I came to say goodbye, my sweet Spike." A cool kiss on his brow. "I'm not cross anymore."

His eyes opened, but they were unfocused. All he saw above him was white and black, something soft and beautiful in a fearsome way. "Dru?" The shortened version of her name came easily, in a dream state, as if calling to an acquaintance of long standing. Somehow, he wasn't afraid.

She smiled. "A pet name from my pet, how delicious."

"Come back to finish-"

"Shh. There'll be another time. I tasted your death, but it must be too early." She licked her finger, and then rested it thoughtfully on her chin. "I remember you saying you didn't want to find out, from me."

_What was this? When? What? _"What?" He asked feebly.

"Death, my lamb. Before and after. All the things you wonder. You don't want to find out _yet._ But when you do- I'll be there. I'll be waiting for you to find me, this time. It's your turn, you see."

He couldn't shake his head, too many tubes. He croaked out, "Never."

"Oh no. Just not now." Drusilla stepped away from his bed and slid back out of the window, into the night.

* * *

"I ran her out, I guess. I couldn't find her and her scent ended in his room- probably on him- his clothes." Angel spared her the pain of knowing about the sexual encounter. For now, at least. "How is he?"

"Breathing on his own, not looking so pasty anymore." Buffy leaned against Angel. "I told Mom I'd get a ride home. Giles wants to stay here, obviously. Can you walk with me?"

"Of course!" Angel wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they began to walk slowly down echoing hospital stairwells. She seemed to sag against him, looking so much smaller than he was, and so unlike the warrior she usually was. His heart tugged towards hers, and he sought for words to mend things between them. "Um. About Drusilla- I didn't know she was in town before I got there. I didn't tell you right away, because I was just- I was worried about you, I wanted to take care of everything for you. But I would have told you. You know that?"

She did. But she suddenly... didn't._ Wait. It's Angel. Don't I trust him anymore? _

There was a hollow in her mind where an emphatic reassurance should have been.

At the end of the day, the official end of her childhood, at the end of so much more, though she knew there was so much more to come, she didn't question. The overwhelming feeling at the second, in the wake of his words, was relief.

"I get it. Thank you. Thank you so much." Buffy said sincerely as they left the hospital halls. "For everything you did today. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I still didn't give you your birthday present."

"Will's alive. It's really all the present I want." She laughed weakly.

Angel was silent for a beat. "Right. You're right, that's what matters."

"Oh. Oh no! Not that I don't want- like - I'm sorry, Buffy brain coordination is at zero right now. I can't wait for my Angel gift." She paused to kiss him with a sigh.

* * *

"I wrote you a song. What with me bein' broke an' all." Will put the guitar across his knee. "You promise not to laugh? I still sound wheezy." His neck was taped up, bruises showed through pale skin. "Was gonna get Rupert to do it up, but he's a bit preoccupied. Bein' fired from his life's calling doesn't suit him."

"I hate Quentin Travers. And the guy they're sending- they're going to put him in the school library. What is it with Watchers and libraries?"

"Feel at home, I guess. Nothing but books and alphabetical order."

"Says the English major with the work study at the campus bookstore." Buffy coughed.

"Shut up and let me sing, Slayer." Chords tumbled out, soft and uncertain at first, the musician playing with closed eyes and head bowed. The notes gained strength until his voice whispered his song.

"_My soul is wrapped in harsh repose_

_Midnight descends in raven colored clothes_

_But soft, behold! A sunlight beam_

_Cutting a swath of glimmering gleam_

_My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in it,_

_Inspired by your beauty effulgent."_

Buffy sat still, hands on knees, eyes closed.

He softly put the instrument down. "I- uh- hm. Was a poem. Put it to music."

"I thought it might have been." Buffy opened her eyes and beamed at him. But the beam wavered. "Am I- sunlight?"

"You are."

"So... who's in the raven midnight?" Because if some of the poem had real basis, maybe all of it did.

William paused. "Dunno. Just- a cloudy feeling I have in me sometimes. Somethin' dark growin'."

"Can I help?"

"You already help."

"Will... Drusilla ... she took you right there, didn't she? Right to - that ending spot." Buffy replaced her hands on her knees and avoided his eyes again.

"Yeah..."

His hands caught hers, then lifted her chin up. "But I wasn't ready to go."

* * *

"We can't go on like this." Had he meant it to sound so dramatic?

"Wait- what are you saying?" Buffy's smile faded, puzzlement on her face, even though, somehow she knew exactly what was happening.

Angel paused. Joyce came to see him that day. He hadn't even known she had his address. It didn't matter. Wasn't a social call, and she wouldn't be returning. Her words were to the point, once delivered, she was gone, though Angel seemed to feel her presence echoing everywhere, voice giving him no peace.

_My daughter may be a Slayer. She may not have chosen this life, but she doesn't have to let it consume her. She has a chance for a healthy, normal life. _

_ If you're not in it._

Maybe not that condensed, but that was the message. "I'm saying- this isn't fair to you. You're always going to be stuck in the same place, as long as you're with me."

"I'm stuck in Sunnydale anyway. Hellmouth." Buffy shook her head. "Who says I want that to change?"

"I say you do. I say...you're staying with me because you think you have to." _Joyce thinks she has to._ He repeated her words nearly verbatim. "You're like any young woman in love. You have such a good heart. You think that a couple has to stay together and work through anything. I came back and you thought- you thought you should give me a second chance."

"Angel! That's not true. This- this is still our first chance. It got interrupted, but we couldn't help that. I love you, Angel. I was so heartbroken without you, and-" she took a deep breath, steadying her voice, "and I know it's hard, but I love you and I choose you. I didn't have to when you came back, and you didn't have to choose me either. But we did."

"We were wrong." Her sweet mouth broke into a quiver, and his heart stung. He tried to explain the harsh words. "We should have been friends. Just friends. Not lovers. We're _not_ even lovers, Buffy, we can never _be_ together. We can never do more than kiss, and sometimes, lately..." His eyes flared with Halloween flame for a moment before fading back to black, "Sometimes I want to do more."

She felt her temperature rise a few notches, but she swallowed and shook her head. "That's natural. But there are lots of couples who want to do more but can't. P-people with medical conditions, or people who work in different parts of the country for m-months at a time." Her voice stuttered with unshed tears.

"People have cures for medical conditions. People have planes and long weekends halfway between cities. There's no cure for a curse, and there's no halfway point for us. Except- being just friends. I love you enough not to let anything happen to you. I love you enough to let you go, to give you a better chance at happy."

"I don't want to be 'let go', I don't want chances, I don't want happy, I want _you_."

"You don't have to say these things, Buffy-"

"I'm not just saying this now! You can even ask Will, I told him right after I met you that I need the- I need the _spark_."

Angel shook his head at her folly. "The spark? You mean the danger?"

"My whole life is danger!"

"Well, this one part shouldn't be!" Angel cried.

* * *

She cried. She cried on Willow's shoulder, on William's shoulder, into Giles' best teacups and all over the books her new Watcher shoved at her, staring with open bewilderment, at a loss that a Slayer was mourning the loss of a vampire's love. Or that she loved at all.

* * *

"Gonna make you smile, or I'm gonna go torch that jerk's mansion. What'cha fancy?" William said one evening as he checked her math homework and handed it back, half full of wrong answers corrected.

"Smiling. Don't hurt him or his stuff. He's still... a friend." Buffy whispered.

William didn't mean to speak with such contempt. It still came out. "You two? You're not gonna make it as 'friends'."

"Hey!"

The sneer was evident in his voice, and he wished he could stop speaking, but his mouth refused to still. "You'll never be _friends._ You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, or try not to, and when he does the barmy things he does, when he pulls his noble soul crap on you and makes you cry, when he treats like you can't make up your own damn mind- you'll hate him. He'll hate you right back, Luv, because you're the one thing he loves and can't have, the thing he should hold onto and he pushed away. Tryin' to be smart an' mature, both of you-" He shook his head at her, swallowing anger and all the million things he should have said already. "Love isn't brains, Buffy. It's in your blood. It's inside of you and you can't get it out or shut it off. Not even death is gonna stop it. It'll scream inside you until you- until you listen."

She stared at him, stunned. "At least we're trying something. Isn't it better than nothing?"

_Like what we have. What we are. We're not lovers, not in love, but we're wrapped up together, and we love each other. Isn't it better than nothing at all?_ _Init the same kind of lie?_ He didn't know right then. "Get Willow to help you with trig, that's beyond my pay scale, Buffy." He muttered and left the room, ignoring the shock in her eyes, and the pain on her face.

* * *

He should apologize. He knew it. The torrent of words was misguided and frustrated, and probably hurt her. She was broken up enough inside already, didn't need anymore pain.

_Stupid things I said probably scarred her up, only I'll never see the mark. _He touched his own scars absently. A little memento from Drusilla right on the brow. _Like her. Always lurking just out of the corner of his mind's eye._ At his throat- always pulsing with him, reminding him how close he'd been- and that he still had questions she hadn't answered.

He groaned, pushed the thoughts away, and went back to his work in the campus bookstore's stockroom. He was working another afternoon shift, alone, with nothing but piped in campus broadcasting for company.

"This is Radio UC Sunnydale, with another local band making it from the airwaves to your earwaves. Hey, Joel, who do we have next?

"Next we have a dedication to William, from Buffy, who says she knows he's listening right now. She says she hopes he 'gets it'. It's Nickel, with _Stupid Thing_."

_I did a stupid thing last night_

_I called you_

_a moment of weakness_

_no, not a moment_

_more like three months of weakness_

* * *

Will dropped the order sheet back to the shelf and slowly walked to the speaker controls.

_I'm one step away_

_from crashing to my knees_

_one step away_

_from spilling my guts to you_

* * *

He turned the song up.

_I did a stupid thing last night_

_I called you_

_I'm doing alright_

_no, don't feel sorry for me_

_really, I'm alright_

"God, she's really something." He murmured to himself.

_And I'm one step away_

_from crashing to my knees_

_one step away_

_from spilling my guts to you_

_You see, there's this huge chunk of me missing_

_it's gone_

_and I can't feel it, I can't feel it_

_I can't feel..._

* * *

_ Isn't that what's wrong? We're both so close to feeling it, and yet somehow, we don't quite? I do, but she doesn't, or sometimes, she does, but I don't? Bloody hell. The stupid little things, they just keep getting bigger._

_I did a stupid thing last night_

_I called you_

_it's the last time_

_and maybe tomorrow night_

_will be the last time..._

"Hi." A tiny voice cut in under the music.

He jumped, peered at the speaker, and then realized it wasn't coming from there. She was really here. William slowly turned towards the door of the stock room. "Buff."

"Like the song?" She asked in a semi-scared, half-hopeful voice, stepping towards him.

_When I'm one step away_

_from crashing to my knees_

_one step away_

_from crashing to my knees_

_one step away_

_from spilling my guts to you_

_from crashing to my knees..._

"Love it." He replied honestly.

"Can- Can this be our song?" She held out her hands.

His heart raced. "Is there an us?"

"There will always be an us, Will. I think- I think maybe it's not done being assembled. Like a puzzle missing a piece. O-or with the wrong pieces in some of the spaces?"

"You're cute when you try to use similes." He grabbed onto her hands and squeezed like he would never let go.

Her fears released in a whoosh of air as she nodded, "Cute is a good thing."

They hugged in the room with impersonal shelves, and cold concrete floors, a tiny island of warmth and life.

In the middle of city built on death. "There are things you don't know. About- all my pieces." He followed her train.

"I guessed that." Angel hinted at it, not right away, a few weeks later, after William was better. Hinted that he hadn't just been something for bait, for Drusilla's easy prey.

"Tall, dark, and obnoxious tell you?" He thought the vampire knew, though he never came out and confronted him.

"I told him you told me already. 'Cause I knew you would. You don't lie to me." She looked into his eyes with a half smile. "Funny. He and I - not so much with the truth sometimes. But_ you_ and I-"

"Always do the honesty thing." Honest about events and ideas, confused thoughts sometimes stay hidden, handed out to her in poems, sung to her in little bits of song. "When I was chasin' her down in the tunnels, we started mixin' it up, an' you know she bit me- know she always gets in my head."

"I know." And she wished, because she wasn't aware that it was already so, that she could get into Will's head, too.

"She kissed me, and she ... we..." It felt like a betrayal to the woman in front of him, a betrayal to himself even, yet, he hadn't let it betray either of them in the end. "I didn't sleep with her, but we had about five minutes of sex and biting."

"Oh." How come that hurt her so much? A horrible thought leaped immediately into her mind as soon as that burst of anguish faded. "She- did she make-?"

"No." There was no 'force', for all the violence between them. There was reluctance, and struggle, but Drusilla had been right when she said he wanted to press into her. "I wouldn't say that. It definitely wasn't with love, Buffy, definitely wasn't planned. Was almost like part of the fight "

Buffy tried to imagine it. Sexual tension in the midst of fighting? No, she couldn't say she'd ever experienced it. But- a sudden image sprang to her subconscious, of fighting with Will, maybe not fighting, training, the blows traded, the heavy breathing, the intensity- she could almost imagine herself throwing herself into his arms and... she blushed. "I get it. You don't have to explain it away." She whispered.

"Yeah, I do. Wanted to tell you before that, well," he coughed, "funny thing is, she was my second one. Funny thing is- never really seem to enjoy it. Mind's always..." the blue eyes raked her with naked flame, "someplace else."

The someplace was her. It had to be. Everything twisted inside her, something physical and emotional, reaching to those flames. "Can we go someplace... together?"

"To...?" _Oh yes. Oh no. No, not like this. It's gotta be special with her. The _real _first time._

"Not to do... that." She blushed. He blushed back. "I don't know if it's wrong, but I just feel like, I want to, and I don't, all at the same time. Like something is missing. Puzzle pieces again." _I just told Will I want to have sex with him. And that I don't. He's going to think I'm so messed up._

_ Or he'll prove he's totally the best guy ever, and he'll get it. _

"That's okay. You're right." She was, no matter how much he'd prefer her to be wrong, for this to be simple. "Are we still friends?"

_He never lets me down. _Her smile was ten thousand watts of pure happiness. "Do you have to ask?" She slapped his arm. "I don't care what the history teacher said, there _are _such things as stupid questions."

"No roughin' me up- even if I do think I might get off on it." He admitted with a leer.

Her cheeks flamed, and so did a little spark lower down, deep in her softest parts. "Well, I'm not gonna be _too _rough. I think I could bruise a boyfriend." Buffy ruefully admitted.

They both realized what she had said.

"Too soon?" Will croaked out helpfully. They still had the Mayor to stop, a few weeks of school left, and her breakup with her big love was still fresh, heart still raw and broken. The git was still around, too.

"Is it wrong of me to say yes- but tell you I wish it wasn't?"

"No."

"Is it wrong to say- I think it started a long time ago?" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

William shook his head. "I don't think tellin' the truth is ever wrong, Luv." He cupped her cheek, like he'd been wanting to for such a bloody long time. "Maybe dangerous, maybe stupid- but never wrong." Their lips came within brushing distance, and then stopped, mutually. _So in sync her and I, yet we're always just one beat away from making that perfect harmony. Oh well, at least our timin' is starting to come together._ "Hold the thought, Pet?"

She nodded eagerly. "I promise."

He breathed against her, bottom lips brushing, before they smiled together, heads bowing, eyes smiling into each other's. "We always keep our promises, don't we?"

"And don't you forget it."

He chuckled as they straightened up. _As if anything could make me ever forget _her. _She'll always be my girl..._

* * *

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time._

_Dedicated to Illusera, Tesslouise, Omslagspapper, JM89, AGriffinWriter, Rihannon, Jhiz, The Darkness Befalls, TieDyeJackson, Sirius120, Ginar369, micmoc, Rosalea12, and Neko-Youkai. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part IV**

It was going to be the best summer of their lives. Post- giant snake killing and school blowing up, that is.

"Your eyebrows are finally back!" Willow joyously announced when Buffy opened the door.

"Yep. How are Oz's?" Buffy laughed as she welcomed her friends into the house.

"They're coming more slowly. He doesn't have Slayer mojo. I tried to do a spell for them, but all it did was cause mega beard growth."

"You like him furry." Buffy winked, and Willow blushed at the werewolf joke.

"Yeah, well- you like them cold." She tried to tease back. Then looked utterly and completely mortified. "I didn't mean that. I m-meant- I was making a- I have to go."

"Wills! Stay." Buffy caught her hand to prevent her from fleeing. "Good one." She whispered and tried to keep sudden tears from falling.

Willow had empathetic tear ducts, which immediately made her wide eyes glossy. "Did you- hear anything?"

Buffy shook her head, and tried to shrug it off. "He said he wouldn't say goodbye. Too hard to... say goodbye." _But friends would do that, wouldn't they? I think William is right. Angel and I will always be something, but I don't think it'll be friends._ "So- um." She cleared her throat. "Did you bring the hot dogs you wanted?"

"All beef kosher." Willow held up her shopping bag.

" 'Cause the only pork this witch'll take is from the wolf." William slid into the open door behind the two girls. "Hi, Red." He kissed her cheek as she slapped at his, blushing, mainly because he was right.

"You are so crude. You will not be given marshmallows for toasting." Buffy chided him and shut the door after her second guest.

"That's just mean." William gave her a pout, but changed it to a smirk as he winked at Willow. "I like her dark side, y'see. Not everyone's best friend looks so hot blowin' up a building." Willow laughed and Buffy hid a smile.

"Uh- that'd be your uncle." Buffy stuck out her tongue, but didn't mind the flirting. "I was just the ringleader, he was the explosives guy. And speaking of mild-mannered men with an unsettling knowledge of detonations, where is Watcher-mine? He could have come to our 'Hurray we didn't die' party."

"Shipping his replacement off to a three week retreat in the Cotswolds with green envy in his veins."

"Most people would just say 'at the airport'." Buffy teased.

Willow gave him a slightly gooey look. "I like when he gets all poet-y. Oz isn't very big on the verbal."

"That's 'cause he's a man of few words and a cunning mind." William smiled in reference to his bandmate and good friend.

"True."

"Hey, where is Oz?" William looked around.

"Getting sodas. His van needed filling up anyway, so he stopped at the gas station."

"Right, then."

"Speaking of absent people again, why is _Giles _dropping off Wesley? They can barely stand to be in the same room." Buffy asked Will.

"To make sure he well an' truly goes. He wants you to himself without that prissy ponce interfering."

"Like I ever listen to him anyway." Buffy scoffed and led the trio to the backyard, where she'd set up the grill- or tried to, since she'd never done it without her mom's supervision before. "Besides, when we go to England in July, he'll have a Wesley-free zone. As in Wesley might be there but he won't be in the same part. Right?" She asked with a sudden look of desperation. William laughed, nodded and put down the bag of chips he'd brought.

"I'm so jealous you're going to London for three whole weeks." Willow sighed deeply.

"Twentieth birthday present." Buffy slid her arm around William's waist and laid her head on his chest. "Airfare for three and apparently giving my mom a protest-ectomy. She didn't even _hesitate _when I asked. She was all- 'Okay, have fun and make sure you stay with Mr. Giles.' You didn't do a spell on her, did you?" She suddenly turned to Willow with a suspicious squint.

"Not guilty!" Willow held up her hands.

"I think she's fueling all her 'I hate that my baby is the Slayer' venom at the new boy." William poured charcoal into the grill and doused it with lighter fluid. "Bertie seems like a sweetheart in comparison, what with not looking down his nose at her and actually 'deigning' to speak to her even though she's only a lowly mum. The git." He snorted at Wesley in absentia.

"Ooh, deigning. Fancy word." Buffy uncovered the plate of beef patties and hovered next to Will.

Willow smiled at the sight. So cute together, and hello, should have been together the whole time. Will wouldn't break her heart, or run off without saying bye, or turn into an evil soulless butthead. "I think it's 'cause your mom totally digs this." She grinned an adorable smile.

"This what?" Buffy asked.

"This!" The redhead gestured to the pair by the grill. "The new all-human, roughly same age bracket, not psycho boyfriend! Plus, sexy accent. Giles' is better, but-"

"We're not- official, yet." Buffy gave her best friend/more than best friend an apologetic glance. "Unless you- I mean, I didn't mean to-"

"You're grinding the already ground beef, Pet." Will nudged her to the side and Buffy stopped anxiously squashing the burgers. "I'm not in a hurry. Got all the time in the world. I didn't exactly like the idea of startin' something new while the King of Pain was in town." Not that he wouldn't have loved to flaunt it to Angel, to shake their happiness in his face and shout from the rooftops that he had been a fool to let go of the greatest treasure ever. He just didn't like the idea of the big ox giving Buffy martyred glances teeming with lost love at every strategy meeting prior to taking down the Mayor.

"I don't want people to think we're a rebound couple. Or the safety couple." Buffy handed him a lighter, and rolled her eyes when he lit up one of his own cigarettes before turning to the grill. "Also, Mom didn't really like the idea of college boy dating high school girl. But for some reason, high school graduate-slash-college enrollee and the big man on campus doesn't even get the arch-y eyebrows."

Will chuckled at her descriptions as he lit a scrap of paper and tossed it onto the lighter fluid soaked coals. Flames shot up and everyone winced away as plumes of fume-laden smoke burst into the air. "What the bloody hell?" He coughed and waved at the smoking barbecue.

"What did you do?" Buffy choked and waved smoke away.

"_Me_? The English don't grill outdoors, Luv, not if we live in the city." William said between coughing fits. "Bertie never-cooks out- at..." He trailed off in another fit of hacking.

"Whoa. Fire?" Oz had arrived. He sauntered into the backyard, waving at the trio around the rapidly losing control flames, calmly opened the bottle of Sprite under his arm and upended it over the worst of the blazing briquettes. "Sorry. We have root beer and orange left." He peered at the now smoldering, sputtering grill. "Hey, Babe." He tossed Willow a smile and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "How many dogs does everyone want?"

"Mm, my hero." Willow kissed him in return and picked up her package of hot dogs.

"Is it okay?" Buffy joined them over the grill.

"Sure. I guess." Oz shrugged. "I don't really mind if it's not. I kinda like my meat rare these days. Hey, Will, I was-" Oz stopped, head tilting.

William was still coughing hard, though the rest of them had stopped. "Get him a glass of water." Buffy asked Willow and went over to her other best friend. "I told you to stop smoking. Fire bad. That was like the equivalent of one pack." She gestured to the still dissipating plumes in the air and laughed.

William didn't. His coughing didn't stop, it seemed to strangle, turn into a wheeze, and he gave her an odd, panicked look. "Buffy?"

"Something's wrong." Buffy announced aloud, all traces of laughter vanishing. Willow sped into the house and appeared back with an overflowing glass. "Here, drink this."

He gulped, gagged, and shook under a fresh wave of hacking.

"He might have inhaled an irritant. He was closest." Willow grabbed the bleached blonde's arm. "We have to get him to the hospital."

Buffy expected him to protest, wave it off, say he'd be better in a few. When he didn't, her stomach dropped to her knees. "Oz, we're taking your van."

"Good thing I gassed up." He put the lid on the grill and took his friend under his free arm. "C'mon, man. Saving the world party postponed."

* * *

"What in the world happened? Did he get burned? Willow said there was an accident with the barbecue." Giles came in flustered and frankly, getting very tired of visiting this particular emergency room.

"He must've inhaled some of the smoke-"

"He smokes! I've warned him against it, but will he listen? No, he has to have this damned rebel incarnate attitude, and-"

"Giles!" Buffy shook his shoulders. "Listen. Will's having trouble breathing. The cough didn't get better, even after we got here. They're talking about putting him on oxygen." She sounded terrified. "They're running tests, and taking chest x-rays."

Giles blinked, his jaw opened, then slowly closed, no words issuing forth.

"Giles?"

"I better go see him." The distracted older man wondered, and gently eased past her. His footsteps seemed very slow, very measured, as he walked away.

"The mechanical man." Buffy rolled her eyes and sat down next to Willow in waiting area.

"Raising repression to an art form." Willow agreed.

Giles didn't hear them. He didn't hear anything.

_Oxygen._

_ Running tests._

_ A chest x-ray._

_ The cough that won't completely stop._

_ This all happened once before. Was it only four years ago?_

* * *

"But- he's a teenager. He only smoked for a year!"

"It's not a cancer that is from cigarette use, though it hasn't helped." Giles murmured.

"No, no, no. See, he was fine last week!"

"Was he? The symptoms aren't very noticeable. A cough that seems to linger-"

"He always blames the cigarettes."

"Soreness in the chest and back."

"We fight vampires and he hauls fifty pound boxes of books for four hours a day!"

"Out of breath at times."

"No one can keep up with me when I walk, let alone run." Buffy tried to make it go away.

It wouldn't. "I know. All those things hide the symptoms well." Giles whispered.

Buffy pulled her hair from her face and shook her head, hoping the news would magically fall away. It didn't. "When can he come home?"

"He's coming home tonight, Buffy."

"What? If he has- that thing- shouldn't they keep him longer? Shouldn't they get it out?"

"They'll have him back, but he wants to be home." Giles spoke softly and firmly. "He wants to be with us."

"Yeah, okay. And- we can skip London, right? He'll have treatments here? An operation here?" Buffy babbled, pacing. Her Watcher sat holding a styrofoam cup of long-cold, bad to begin with tea. "Giles!"

"Yes. Yes, Buffy, they'll do treatments here."

Buffy almost screamed at him. William was going to be fine, just fine, of course he would, because it was only a little mass. Might not even be cancer. They'd do a biopsy. Might be - nodules or some other gross word that meant bad but not deadly. In the mean time, they should be up and worrying and moving around- doing something, not sitting there, staring at old tea. "What's wrong with you? You- you're not Robot Giles anymore, and this is your only nephew! Aren't you gonna help me panic?" She finally snapped.

Giles looked up at her, eyes glazed with unshed tears. "Oh darling... If I thought panic would help, you would see me running through the streets screaming."

Somehow that was far more jarring than hearing that he was just handling everything with good old fashioned stiff-upper lip.

"Wh-why are you... I mean... he's only nineteen. He's not even twenty." A single tear rolled down her tan cheek.

"I know, dear. That's why." He held out an arm, and she fell into it.

* * *

"It's fucked up bullshit bloody fucking nonsense." William took his rage out on the stuffed dummy his uncle kept for Buffy's training. She sat behind him, and just kept handing him the stakes as he broke them off savagely in its woolen chest.

She watched him. Shirtless. Muscles were hard, chest was tight and defined, not bony.

_He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen._ She loved him so much right then that she couldn't even make words to explain it. She just nodded and reached into her bag.

William stopped, breathing hard, reaching back for the next weapon. "Hey."

"What?" Buffy asked, trying to sound normal.

"This is Mr. Pointy."

"Oh. Yeah." She watched him try to hand it back. "You can use him."

"No! He's for real vamps, not the training dummy." This was the first stake she ever carved herself, and it was her favorite. He'd watched her make it, not smooth and even like the rest, crooked and wickedly sharp. Should break, but never did. Bloody thing had survived a lot of battles, and it was her ultimate backup, her most trusted, never-fail, last resort weapon.

She passed it to him without a second's thought. "That's okay, keep it. Sir Puffy has it coming."

"Buffy, I don't need it. Doc said- no 'strenuous' activity." He gave a bitter smile as he tried to return it.

"Well, it's not vamp season, so, no big. You'll be better by fall."

"We don't lie."

It was so blunt, like a slap to her face.

"Well, we don't give up either." She rose and tucked the stake firmly into his belt, hand resting on a narrow, muscular hipbone as they revealed themselves under sliding down black denim. "I'm not giving up. I don't care if they say-"

"That it's inoperable? Genetically predisposed? Hereditary traits getting stronger each generation? Gran in her fifties, mum in her thirties, me- almost made it twenty?" The dark fire was in his eyes, black and ugly.

She should have recoiled, shied away from it, and instead- she kissed him like she'd never kissed him, or anyone, before. Something inside her seemed to like a glimpse of something in him, dangerous and restless - calling to something dangerous and restless in her.

Will's head spun. This was how he had wanted it for so long- for her to feel that sense of desperation and longing he had around her. _And she's kissing me like that 'cause I'm dyin'._ He stopped it, licking his lips to soak in the taste of her. "Sweetheart, listen to me. You don't have to go over the top 'cause I'm dying."

Buffy narrowed her eyes- then swiped her hand across his stiff platinum hair, skewing it, shaking her head at his folly. "That was so you keep living. Idiot."

* * *

"Buffy. I - thought William said you two had plans tonight?"

"Plans called on account of tired boyfriend." They shared a small, knowing grin.

* * *

She'd started calling him that now. They hadn't consummated with more than a few searing kisses, but it wasn't fully by choice. No strenuous activity the doctors said, and at first Buffy had been confused- did it mean the cancer spread- for that is what it was, a tumor, malignant, and ingrained in the lung tissue, one small mass in the right, an even smaller one in the left.

"How can being active make it spread?" She asked as they walked slowly around town, eating popsicles before they melted in the California heat.

"It's not that, Luv, It doesn't spread it. It's the fact that my breathin' won't work right once I get it started. Rapid inhalation, exhalation, even laughin' too hard, or a coughin' fit is gonna lead to- well, a coughin' fit." He put his smokes in the trash. "Hafta quit them. Makes it worse. Prolly sped up the process, but not gonna feed the fire anymore."

* * *

"Where is he?" Giles welcomed her into the living room.

"He crashed on my bed while I was getting ready." She blushed. "Not-like that. Ready to go out. I just had to go brush my hair and I had my new skirt in the dryer- he fell asleep by the time I got back upstairs. I didn't want to wake him up."

"I see. So you came to visit me?"

"Uh huh." She walked the living room she now knew as well as her own. The blend of Rupert and Will- two guitars in stands by the window, stacks of vinyl, shelves of books, weapons on the wall artistically arranged to look like mere displays to the casual visitor.

Giles closed whatever he was reading, or pretending to. When she walked around like this, not talking much, it meant she actually had a great deal to say. "What is it, dear?"

"Is he getting any better? He- he stopped telling me the numbers last week. And his hair- um- I love his hair." She laughed awkwardly, looking at her feet in her summery sandals. "But I thought it would have fallen out with all the radiation."

"Radiation only causes hair loss on the area being treated." Giles said automatically.

"That explains why he's Mr. Smooth lately. His chest is like one of those statues in Italy that you just want to lick ice cream off of, if it wouldn't get you put in museum jail and I- really need to stop talking now." Buffy trailed off, blushing furiously.

Giles cleared his throat and polished his glasses vigorously, the Watcher version of blushing. " Hm. Well. Chemotherapy drugs may do that. The hair loss. In some cases. Not all."

"Like if the treatment isn't working, and the drugs aren't having any effect, then... nothing happens?"

"Something like that." He murmured.

More pacing, nudging books, bumping records, making him long to tell her to sit down and sit on her hands, like some naughty child. Only he would never say that to her now, not when he knew what she was working up to.

"When they say inoperable-"

He answered the question she hadn't quite asked. "It means that an operation isn't an option. It doesn't mean that it_ can't _be done, it means that- well, that it would be very risky, or have no value. In Will's case, since it's on both lungs and already affecting breathing- he might not be able to continue breathing during surgery, even with assistance. I asked about removing one lung, because he- well, a person can live with only one lung. But it's on both."

"What about a transplant? He can have one of mine." Buffy gripped the hem of her shirt in a nervous gesture. "I'm a Slayer. I have Slayer lungs, right? He could have mine and it wouldn't get sick, would it?"

"Maybe not. I don't know. I don't think it's ever been attempted. I don't think there has ever been a slayer with such a deep connection to another person, or so much love in her heart." Giles smiled softly at her.

"So why don't we try that?"

"By the time that his body could accept a new lung, if yours is even a match, he might have a large tumor on the other side, which would necessitate a further operation. Which would be difficult to do, on a patient who's just had a transplant." Giles knew the scenario she suggested was unlikely to work at any rate. A Slayer is a Slayer as a whole. Take away pieces and they're simply that, pieces.

"Couldn't we ask about it?" Buffy insisted.

"I will, Buffy. I'm just not holding out much hope the doctors would agree to something so ... cavalier. Especially since I can't tell them that your lungs may have mystical healing powers." He chewed on silence for a moment, and then stared at her.

"You have something else face."

"What?"

"You have the look that means you have something else to tell me. So say it." Buffy crossed her arms, shielding herself from the pain she knew was coming.

"If William goes the same course as his mother did- if the cancer is indeed like his mother's, which the doctors seem to think is the case, some unusual genetic predisposition... it eventually metastasized."

"It what?"

"Spread."

"Oh."

His hands trembled subtly as he removed his glasses. "Buffy, sometimes we have news that we don't want to face."

"So we won't face it! What are we going to do?"

_There may not be anything left to do. But by God, we're going to try. _"Anna's doctor- that was my sister's doctor, opened a private clinic in London. I'm going to get him there. If there are drugs or treatments they haven't approved in the US yet, they may have something available over there."

"Can I still come? I was going to come, am I still coming, even though it's not a vacation, even though it's a different time?"

"You two were going to go sight seeing-"

"The only sight I want to see is Will getting better." Buffy declared firmly.

Giles nodded. "Goodness knows we both need you."

She practically jumped into his lap to hug him. "Thank you! Thank you for being an awesome Watcher and uncle. I love you."

"Hrm. Well, I- love you, too." He coughed and patted her back awkwardly.

* * *

_How do you ask awkward questions like, "So, are you still going to be dying soon?"_ Buffy wasn't allowed in the consulting area. She read magazines in the office and made a game out of finding how many words English magazines spelled differently than American ones, and how many topless pictures they could get away with.

"Hey. What'd he say?" Buffy already knew. William's face was thunderous, Giles' was blank. The expressions of no joy, arguing, and bad news.

"Sod all." William grabbed her hand and hurried her out the door while his uncle paid the bill.

* * *

"Why are you smoking? Don't smoke!" Buffy yelped as he lit up halfway down the street. "Where'd you even-"

"Light fingers." He flashed her a whole packet, a lighter, and someone's keys.

"Will!"

"The keys were an accident." He dropped them on the ground.

"Hey. What the hell is wrong with you?" Buffy got in front of him and demanded angrily.

"Nothin' much, Pet, I'm just dyin' young. You're not the only one with a fucked up birthday tradition." He gave her a crooked smirk and blew a long roll of smoke through his lips, shuddering out a cough.

"Well... I'm not dying at the moment, so could you put that away?" Buffy asked quietly.

He hesitated, then dropped it, crushing it under his heel. She noticed he didn't relinquish the pack though. "I thought... I thought you wanted to get better. They said to stop smoking."

"Yeah. To get _better_. This bloke- he says I'm not gonna get better. I've got two options. I can do some new experimental treatment which means I'm in hospital pretty much around the clock, and that I've gotta stay here in London- and it'll prolong my life. I could get another six months to a year instead of another three months to six. But it's not getting better. It's just- existing. Managing pain. Hoping for miracles."

She couldn't speak. There were timelines. There had never been timelines before. Three months? Three months and- no more Will in her life and she suddenly knew what it was like not to be able to breathe. She let him drag her through crowds and down the steps into the underground, blindly clutching his hand as she tried to see through tears.

He was fueled by anger. He kept on talking, grunting out words he knew she'd hear, even in the crush of the city streets and roar of trains in the tunnels. "I watched him do it to my mum. I watched him 'treat' her and 'manage' her, and I'm not letting him do it to me. She spent the last three weeks of her life -" It hurt too bad to talk about those last three weeks. About how badly she hurt, about how she seemed to shrivel away, barely speaking by the end. He furiously wiped his eyes. "I don't wanna get more time just to waste it."

Buffy finally stopped following along with him, applying the considerable strength in her small frame to halt him. Will turned to look at her, but she still didn't speak.

He didn't either, just pulled her against his chest and gripped her hard, watching the rest of the world rush by.

* * *

"She said she tasted it in me. Death. But it was too soon. She was right. For cracked as she is, she knows a few things, doesn't she?"

Buffy nodded. She still couldn't seem to speak more than a word at a time. Will always made up for it. He was the wordy one, the brainy one, the- _Oh God. How am I going to live life without him in it? I'm supposed to die young, not him! This isn't fair. _

"She said I'd come to her this time." He said it ever so casually, just to her, as they laid alone in his hotel room bed. She had her own room of course, but no one would keep them apart tonight, even if they _had _planned to something less than innocent. "Think she's right again, Luv?"

Buffy sat up. "What?"

"Drusilla. Think she's right? Think I'll find her in time?" He held his breath- what he could get of it.

"I- You're too good for that, Will. I never, ever, ever think you'll kill people so you can live- an-and it won't be you living."

"You eat burgers. You kill cows. I don't see the harm in you gettin' the beef, me gettin' the blood. I work in a stock room in the basement, I play in coffeehouses and clubs, all at night. I could take night courses. I grew up in the city, Luv, I'm not desperate for sunny skies and the great outdoors."

She swallowed down the immediate joy that filled her at the idea. It all sounded so reasonable, so manageable, possible, really. Except- "But that's what _you_ want to do. And you won't _be_ you anymore. You won't even- Will, you're wouldn't be a human."

"I won't be human in three to six months as it is. I'll be ashes. Scrawny, morphine-addicted ashes."

"But at least they won't be ashes I made." Buffy gasped out, a sob bursting from her lips.

"I wouldn't let you - I mean, wouldn't make you make that sorta call." He wiped hastily at her tears.

She sniffed them in and looked at him unflinchingly. "No. So I'd make it for us."

* * *

"You said if I ever got bit-"

"That was if it happened, an accident, no control." Buffy shot back before he'd even had a chance to finish the sentence.

William smiled. So she'd thought about it since they had the conversation yesterday. So she remembered. "Why's it matter if it was an accident or on purpose?"

"Because I never thought you would be desperate enough or stupid enough to -" She winced. "Dammit."

His smile broadened. "So you'll help me. It's what we do."

She physically hurt from how much pain this put her through. Every cell inside of her knew she would have to tell him no, and break years of the unbreakable code of honesty and friendship and helping each other no matter how bad the idea was, how unbelievable it sounded.

Therefore she was completely surprised when she heard herself saying, "Yeah. I guess I will."

* * *

"You- you want to what? You're considering- how can you-" The normally articulate Watcher gave up completely and went out onto the hotel room balcony, swore heatedly, scared a flock of pigeons and a passing jogger, then returned to face the blonde girl sitting on the edge of the hotel room desk with scared eyes. "Buffy, what you've just said is both heinous and out of the question. I'll thank you not to mention it again."

"I think it's both of those things, too. Only- he's going to die and - and I have to help him try, Giles. He wants to try this and if I don't help, he'll do it anyway. He'll do it anyway, but then what kind of time would we have left together? Him wanting me to at least try to help him save himself, him knowing I wouldn't?" Her eyes overflowed, as they had so often lately. "I only fall in love with someone before I lose them. We- we screwed up, okay? I should have seen it before and he should have seen it, too, and we didn't. We did the young, stupid, crazy living on the Hellmouth, and this is what it gets us. Death sentences."

He let her talk herself to a halt. "That doesn't excuse what he wants, nor what you agreed to. You agreed, didn't you? If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here, asking me these unspeakable questions."

"No one knows more than you." Buffy whispered. "He's your nephew, your only relative. I thought you-"

"My sister experienced this four years ago, Buffy. My _only _sister. My best friend through childhood, my companion growing up. You don't know what it's like, being the child of a Watcher. You're very isolated, with very clear expectations and little room to dream of your future. A friend you can tell your secret to- even better, one who shares it, is an incredible blessing. When you're faced with losing them, losing them to a slow, painful death, that still comes all too quickly- you consider every option."

She stared at him. "I do know what that's like. I'm living that, Giles. I'm living it right now, only Will isn't just my best friend, he's my everything. And Slayers aren't even supposed to have an 'everything', they're supposed to have nothing but demons and vamps and slaying."

"And when you're a Watcher, you have all that- in book form." He said dryly. "You have knowledge, secret knowledge of the worst things in the world, of powers and loopholes. I thought about using them." His cheek ticked, and his eyes stopped seeing the girl in front of him, and saw another girl, a girl about five years older than this one, clutching at his arms in another hospital ward.

"Did William ever mention his father?" Giles asked.

"Subject change?" Buffy asked, puzzled.

"Did he?"

"He showed me his picture. I see where the good looks come from- the different good looks, no offense." She said quickly. "He told me about the motorcycle accident and how he was only- was he two or just about to turn two..."

"It was just before. Edward was in an accident, but he didn't die on impact. He had brain damage, and he was in an irreversible coma for about a week before Anna took him off life support. She asked me to do what you're asking me to do. Even though she didn't become a Watcher, she knew about vampires. She knew dead could walk, and she loved Edward -as much as you love Will. But she'd never studied them like my father and I had, it was just sort of general knowledge."

By now Buffy had a stricken look on her face. "If this was the scary movie, they'd be doing the creepy music, wouldn't they?"

"No." Giles said firmly. "Because I'm not a fool. I took her down to Devon and showed her the training area. I let her see vampires, I let her talk to them- I almost was fired then." He smiled ruefully. "Not one spark of humanity remained in any one of them. I remember the one- he'd been a milkman just after the war- been wounded in France, had a wife and three children. Was a volunteer for the Household Cavalry." Giles' voice was brittle now. "He took great delight in telling my sister about how he murdered his wife and children before starting on his milk route- being invited in at almost every home, because he was a familiar face..."

She felt sick. He'd wanted her to feel that way, and it made her hate him, if only for a second. "Why would you do that to her?" _To me?_

"So she'd understand! So you'd understand! All the things they were in life, the person they were, is twisted and perverted. That man killed the people he loved most, the people he defended and protected, people he was friends with, neighbors with. Anna loved Edward too much to give his body to a monster, especially without being able to even ask him if that was the sort of half- life he'd want. She loved me enough to beg me-" he swallowed, "not to weaken when she was dying, not to be tempted to try it, because it _is_ a temptation, God, it is the most horrible one I've ever had. To keep them... even their image- for just one second longer..." The brittleness was replaced with ragged breathing, uneven, and she realized that the impassioned lecturer was in as much pain as herself. "He's so young, Buffy! It should have been me, Mother died of it, then Anna, and they didn't know about genetic predisposition back then. Shouldn't have happened to him so early. Shouldn't have happened to him at all. Should have been me."

"Giles, please don't say that." Buffy lost her anger, scooting next to him, putting her smaller hand on his.

"No, I mean it." He steadied himself before the tears could unhorse him, blinking once and setting his jaw. "We- we didn't want Edward to end up like that. We... Buffy, I _cannot _consider this. Not if I didn't do it for my sister. She would turn in her grave if I ever led William down this dangerous path. I _can't_ do it for him, I _didn't_ do it for her." His eyes locked on hers, "You may think I'm 'stiff' at times, devoid of emotions or feelings, but I loved my sister, Buffy. By the time she was diagnosed, she was my only family- aside from William."

"But if he dies, then you won't have-"

His voice was thunderous. "If he becomes a vampire, he'll be just as dead to me! Worse. My boy's face in a monster's possession." He shuddered. "No."

She agreed. She really did. But it was for Will and Will erased sense, Will erased boundaries. "But you'll still be without a family, either way-"

"I have you."

Her eyes tingled as she gripped his hand. "Slayers don't make very good family- if you want them to stick around for a long time."

William walked in then, from where he'd been listening outside the adjoining room doors. He found them crying, knitted up together, a sight he'd thought he'd never see. He felt hope trying to wriggle away from him, and he crushed it's tail and held it. "Cryin' for me already?" He sneered, masking the pain, holding in his own tears.

"No. Crying for ourselves." His uncle replied, and fiercely grabbed him, pulling him into the knot.

* * *

"Are you... serious? You're not, are you?" Willow squeaked. William's twentieth birthday party-slash-welcome home from England party was interrupted by his idea.

"Will!" Buffy had told him not to mention it. They wouldn't understand it. And they had to give up the idea. Really. Soon. Any second now... And no. Despite what Giles shared, the idea was fixed in his head, and so, in hers. A part of him as much as his thoughts, and just as inseparable and inescapable. "It's not-"

"So crazy." Oz shrugged. "I'm a werewolf. Hey, we could make a side band, Will. Monsters of Rock? Too cheesy?"

"Too obvious. Let's do something subtle."

"Don't joke!" Willow's voice went up an octave, then dropped to a hiss. "Three nights a month Oz sleeps in a cage, this is talking about eternity with a demon in you, always in a cage you can't get out of! It's never going outside in daylight, and never having a reflection, and always trying to kill people!"

"Shhhh." Buffy hushed her nervously as people beside them turned to stare. "Will, you have to stop talking about this, Willow, don't freak, he's not going-"

"To hurt people." William looked annoyed. "Not if you fix me up, Red."

"Come again?"

"You popped the soul back in Angel. One psycho to one big brooding but morally upright citizen in one easy spell, just add orb."

"But- that's ... wait, that's a good idea." Willow looked awed as comprehension dawned.

"No. It isn't." Buffy glared daggers around the table. "Because it's not a spell- it's a curse! One moment of true happiness and bye. No soul. No Will. I already did that once." Her voice cracked. "I'm not doing it again. That's beyond stupid." Her eyes dared him to disagree, "That's hurting you. And me. Do you think I love you enough to want you to live a hundred years without ever feeling happy?"

"I don't have any sins to be burdened down by, no hundreds of innocents and gypsy girls weighing me guilt of his past, that's what makes Angel so bloody unbearable an' miserable all the time." William argued gently.

"Fine. You won't be miserable and wracked with guilt. You're still saying you'd rather be- not even alive- just not dead, 'living' without ever feeling really happy. Sorry if I'm sounding all selfish right now, but I'd rather not spend my life, short as it might be- with the guy who looks like my best friend, knowing I'll never see him really, truly happy." She shoved herself angrily away from the table. "Sorry. I have to go. If I have to get used to losing you- the _real_ you- I want to get in some practice."

* * *

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Buffy put on her bedside lamp. "What's that-"

"Can I come in?"

She gasped. Outside on her window ledge. "You're not Peter Pan, okay? Use the front door. During normally scheduled business hours." Buffy snapped at him, though she did help him inside. When he got in- he began to speak, then stopped, wheezing, a rattling, rasping sound taking over the room. Waspishness was instantly replaced by concern. "Baby? You need some water?"

"No. Just need to know...still- your- boy?" Will's eyes pleased with her as he rasped.

She'd never resisted those blue eyes, not since that first meeting in the cafeteria. "Always." She swallowed down so much emotion in one simple word- then let it all pour out desperately. "Please be for always. Will, I want to be with you, but I don't want to lose you when you- if you change. I want you to be happy. I want there to be a moment when you and I are really, perfectly happy."

"Already had moments like that with you." He pulled her across his knee, and she nodded.

"I know. We're happy together, right?"

"We are, Luv."

"I thought- well, see," she tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture, "when I'm with you, I know what being really, awesomely, 'so good it hurts' happy is like. And that's just when we're getting ice cream and walking around the mall. It didn't have to be one big- first time, or anything." She hastily slid over old details. "I was hoping you felt that, too."

"Oh, I do, Buffy." Will hugged her hard to himself. "I don't even need the ice cream. I just need you to give me a smile. Hell, not even. Just knowin' you're somewhere in the same city gives me a high."

"So I don't want to keep you at the expense of you losing that. That is selfish, isn't it?" She chewed her lip.

"No. It's keepin' me true to myself. I don't need a curse. I don't need a soul. I just need you."

She kissed him, and she wrapped her knees slowly over his thighs, hugging him with her whole body. She pressed him to her chest as she whispered, "How can you be sure? You've seen vampires."

"I know a couple things." His mind replayed some of the conversations he'd had with Drusilla, some things she hinted at, but that he questioned. He'd need answers. But for now- "Take the maddest of the maddest, the evilest of the evil- and let's look over a fact or two. Drusilla, mad as a hatter and killin' left an' right- still knew exactly who she wanted to be with. Would do anything for."

"Angel."

"No. _Angelus_. She may not love him, but she adores him, and she's loyal to him. Kill an' die for him. Not Angel, though. And there in lies the evil an' crackers bit."

She nodded. "You won't love me anymore?"

"No!" Will shook his head. "That's not what I meant. That's not true. I would always love you."

"I want to believe that, but when the demon is in charge-"

"I'm in charge. _I'm_ the boss." He snarled suddenly, and felt her jump, pull back and look at him. "It's somethin' she told me, Slayer." His hands gripped her waist. "It's a matter of givin' the demon his due- and nobody's been reinin' in his demons like I have." His eyes smoldered her, held her over a low blue gaslight flame and made her insides melt and drip. "You know I... have all kinds of self-control."

How did his tongue do that? Circle like that, and the cheeks tightened in a wicked in a good way smile. Oh yes. Self-control. They both had that in spades. Buffy nodded and felt herself arch into his lap, hips widening, riding down, to feel him press up, biting her lip in a kiss.

"After you left- Willow said it- hang on." Will panted, lack of air from making out combining with already obstructed lungs. "She said we'd be okay with the curse, maybe. Said, it was your first time with Angel that made him so happy, so at peace. We'd already be 'used to it'. Then Oz said- we'd be so happy to be back together, and we couldn't give it up, miss it too much. I said you can't miss what you haven't had." He rocked back and watched her straddle him. Buffy's cheeks turned darker, and she nodded, hands resting on his abs, moving slowly down to his waist- where his hands trapped hers. "We're all wrong. I _can_ miss it. I would never get 'used to' makin' love to you."

"I keep worrying we're going to miss our chance." Buffy curved her back, stooping to kiss him gently.

"'Cause soon I'll be too sick to do it." He stated. Reluctantly, she nodded. "My turn to be selfish -an' to practice the self-control bit. I've been dreamin' of us for so long, Buffy. I don't want the first time to be some half-assed five minute poke where you do all the work an' I lie here, tryin' not to cough in your face."

"You seriously think I'd mind?" She caressed his cheek, ran her hands lower, urging him to let go of worries. "I love you. It's _you_. I don't care if it's not going to be record breaking."

"I care. I think our first time should make you see stars. I think it should make you scream, and moan, and that- you should wake up next to me the next mornin' in exactly the same state as when you fell asleep in my arms." He knew about her one and only morning after. "Mostly, I don't want you to have to take me to the hospital when it's done. An' I really, _really_ don't fancy you askin' your mum to drive us there."

She laughed, and nodded reluctantly, resting her head to his, nose to nose. "You know- if we- I mean- if this doesn't work out, I'm going to kick myself into the afterlife for missing this."

"I'll be there with bruises of my own." He coughed, trying to muffle the gagging noise that accompanied it, and then asked, more cockily than he genuinely was, "You won't mind if it's a vamp, will you, Luv? It's what you're used -" He couldn't finish. "I'm sorry, I can't even make it sound good out loud. I guess I'm worried you'll miss it too. You won't want me if I'm-"

"I want you. I don't care what the hell you are, but you'd better _be_ _my Will_. Okay?" she said firmly, getting off of him, helping him rise, listening in relief as his breathing evened and eased.

He nodded. "If I didn't think I could make it- I wouldn't try. You don't think I'd put you through this unless I really believed I could pull it off, d'you?" _I love you more than myself. why do you think I'm doin' this bloody stupid thing? I can't live without you. I can't die when I finally get you. But even if it killed me, I wouldn't hurt you._

_ Say you know it. _William licked his lips are waited for her to answer him.

Buffy paused before answering. She had been in a tumultuous frame of mind for weeks, ever since the barbecue, and it only increased once he told her this dangerous, probably doomed to fail plan. She went along with him because she loved him, and because it was what they did. Help each other no matter what, even if they shouldn't. But she never stopped to think, "Would he be that selfish? Would he risk hurting me, to save himself?" The answer was a resounding no. For the first time in weeks, she felt like her breathing was easier, too.

"I believe in you. All the way- any way you are- or will be." Buffy whispered.

"I knew you'd back me." He almost laughed in relief, eyes brimming. Then he sniffed in manfully, "Good thing, too. 'Cause looks like we're buggered in terms of gettin' help from Bert an' the gang. It's you an' me."

"Well... I like the odds. So tell me what Drusilla told you. I know you think you've got an ace up your sleeve."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time._

_Dedicated to Illusera, Omslagspapper, Kitakana, AGriffinWriter, Rihannon, sgclevel28, The Darkness Befalls, TieDyeJackson, Sirius120, micmoc, Ginar369, and xxtheTwistedSisterxx. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part V**

"You're a Watcher." Buffy announced her presence at Wesley's flat the next day with this obvious statement, then pushed past him into the apartment.

Wesley blinked. "Don't tell me you've finally noticed." He said, sarcasm in his clipped tones.

"You have contacts and stuff. You get info about demons and bad guys and where the 'vamps to watch' are."

"Yes. Yes, I do, but I have to report Sunnydale seems almost uncharacteristically quiet this summer."

_Thank God, 'cause I'm too busy for slaying_ and_ doing the save-my-boyfriend program. _"Great, great. So um- Angel? Angelus? You remember him?"

"Oh dear Lord, no. Please, no. Don't take up with that chap again. The Council has a very strict policy on dating demons. It's not allowed."

"Yeah, well, _you_ work for the Council, not me. You don't date anyone evil and you're good to go." Buffy wiped her perspiring brow and helped herself to a glass of orange juice from his refrigerator as he stared at her with perplexed disapproval. " Look, I don't want to date him, but he's... we have a history. It's been a couple months, I thought I'd see how he was doing." _And ask him to verify the Princess of Darkness actually wasn't making up a fairytale, actually explained the teeny little loophole that might let Will become a vampire, without becoming the demon's shell._

"I forbid it! I- I unequivocally forbid you from contacting him! Oh, I'm no stranger to this. You think it ended amicably enough, you'll meet for coffee, then you'll call her the next day... Before you know it you're having a row in a wine bar in the middle of Mayfair!"

Buffy crossed her arms and slowly shook her head. "Project much?"

Wesley coughed. "Hrm. Don't try to reconnect with an ex. It doesn't go well. I know you refuse to listen to me as a Watcher, but you might listen to me as someone who's been humiliated enough to be absolutely delighted about accepting a job in a different country." He gave her a rueful shrug.

"Right. Well..." Buffy wracked her brain for a plausible excuse. She failed. "He- uh- he has my favorite crossbow and some of my CDs. I just want to call him and ask him to send them back. Maybe say hi, make sure he didn't kick the bucket, but that's it." _That's completely lame._

Wesley seemed to speak lameness. He grudgingly nodded. "Oh. Well, yes, I'm sure I can find out for something as simple as that. But I'll be watching you, Miss Summers. If you suddenly decide to go off on a trip to his location, I shall know of it."

_ We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Please don't let it be somewhere far away. Will's not supposed to fly now, and I'm broke_. "Just a simple phone call." She lied with a winning smile.

When he called her the next day and gave her the address- no phone was listed, she didn't really feel bad about lying. It was for William.

* * *

"Buffy!" Angel almost grabbed her and kissed her. He almost slammed the door in her face. Unable to decide, he held onto the door and seemed to shield himself with it for a second before stepping forward. "Uh. Hi! Come in- no, no I'll come out." He hastily swung the door shut and met her in the basement foyer of his building. "This is a... surprise."

"Yeah, I know." She looked at her hands for a moment before plastering a tense smile on her face. "Sorry, I didn't call first. I didn't get a number."

"I don't have one yet. It's -" It wasn't exactly good to see her. It was painful to see her. She looked somehow pained as well. "Is something wrong?"

_You have no idea._ "Actually, um, I'm working with the new Watcher. He's surprisingly human - at times." She chuckled uncomfortably and Angel allowed himself a half-grimace. "He heard something- just some rumors maybe, from a vampire, but a vampire would be the only one who could really tell us if those rumors are true, and it'd have to be a vampire with some actual knowledge, someone who's been around, someone who comes from a line, a long line, y'know, like the Master's line, and uh- well, I was thinking, who do I know that could help me get some answers?" Buffy finished her marathon sentence with a nervous

He unscrambled her sentence. "Oh. So you thought of me?" Angel blinked. It had been awhile since she just rambled away at him. He'd forgotten how utterly adorable he found it. He got a tender look in his eye- then replaced it with skepticism. "You don't research unless there's a major attack coming. That's Giles' department."

"I slay, he sends out the to-kill list, I know, but this thing Wesley mentioned was really interesting and worth checking out." Buffy hedged.

"Interesting enough for you to drive two hours to the not so great part of LA?" _She's not over us, yet. I know how she feels_. His hands curled into fists to prevent himself from clinging to her. _We have to be strong. We have to end this, clean and quick. I tried that. Tried._ "Buffy, I know it's hard to let go of someone you love, but sometimes it has to be done."

_How'd he know?_ "Who told you?"

"Told me? Buffy, of course I know! Walking away from you was the hardest thing I've ever done." He clutched his heart. "And I battled my way out of hell. I would rather do that again, than let you go."

Her heart gave a nostalgic aching twist, and she tried not to be snared by the depths of his beseeching, soulful eyes. Familiar pain. Unsettling to realize that some part of her liked the bittersweet taste. "Wow. Angel, that's so-"

"But we can't get back together." He said in a rush.

Buffy jerked her words to a halt. "Huh? _We_?"

"Yes, _us_!"

"Why does everyone think I want to get back together with you?" Buffy cried, exasperated.

* * *

"Where's Buffy?" Wesley asked suspiciously, peering into the first Watcher's flat.

"Los Angeles." Giles grudgingly welcomed him in, handing him a thick, gilt-edged volume. "Here's the book you wanted. While you're here, do you happen to have a copy of-"

"Why did she go there?" Wesley demanded, and then didn't give Giles a chance to answer. "I warned her against it, you know! Oh, I warned her, but would she listen? She's headstrong, that's the trouble."

Giles raised an eyebrow slowly. "You warned her not to go see her father?"

"Of course I -Pardon?"

Giles spoke slowly. "Her father. Lives in Los Angeles. She goes there every summer." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, that's right. This is your first summer as her Watcher. And you haven't bothered to find out anything about her."

Wesley looked sulkily offended. "She didn't happen to mention her plans, that's all."

"She never does... to you." He was quite enjoying this. More than he should. He stole a small moment of pleasure in being the girl's favorite as he pretended to pick lint off his polo shirt.

"I think we're making headway. She did consult me about a little personal matter the other day." Wesley confided.

Giles found that odd in the extreme. Buffy had two settings with Wesley, ignore and aggravate. Confide was not on the list. "Really? What was that?"

His face turned red as he listened to the poorly concocted tale Buffy had spun for the naive new Watcher. "You fool! Are you blind?" He burst out at the end of the explanation.

Wesley's face fell. Clearly this was not simply a matter of rekindling a bad romance. "What? Why should I-"

"Don't you know when you're being used, you great idiot? William!" He bellowed. "William, get down here right now!"

* * *

"I _thought_ he'd jump on you the second I left." Angel muttered, fussing at a small kettle and meager supply of tea, things he kept for his occasional visits from his lone friend-messenger, Doyle.

"Well, you were wrong. I jumped on him- kinda sorta after you dumped me. Without the actual jumping, but you know..."

Angel's reflexes saved him from dropping the mug- barely. "Oh. Right. I mean- you know, that's a good thing. Moving on." He nodded bravely, forcing some conviction into his words.

Buffy sighed. "I don't think I'm ever 'moving on' from you, Angel. You will alway be the first big love, first big loss, first - all the firsts. You're a good man. You're a noble man. With the sacrificial love and stuff like that."

"How mature of you." He tried not to sound huffy, really quite mollified by the 'good man, noble man' reference.

_I'm only being mature because there's something bigger at stake._ "Actually, I'm looking for less maturity. Go figure. Someone in my age range." _He'll be twenty when he dies- no, turns. Twenty going on twenty five, with the way his face got so hard, so fast, sharper planes, deeper shadows- such a good guy, with a bad boy face._ "I think I like my guys a little big bad, too." She admitted with a shrug. "Maybe there's only room for one fateful, destiny-sucks warrior in my life, and that's me."

"Yeah. Could be." Angel put the tea in front of her. "So this is 'rumor Wesley heard' is actually stuff Drusilla told William when she captured him?"

"Yes." Buffy was relieved to get to the purpose of her visit, as well as not to keep spinning out a pretty unbelievable lie. _Sad that Angel and I as used to keeping back information as we are sharing it..._

"Then you don't have to waste your time 'researching'. I wouldn't believe anything she said about vampires, Buffy. Or anything he heard, anything he told you." Angel started off dismissively.

"Why's that? You still think he's 'dangerous'?" She snorted into the steamy cup.

"No, I think Drusilla has thrall and that he had massive blood loss. When a demon has thrall, they can distort anything you hear or see. Add in some bleeding-out, near death experience, maybe a couple visions, and you have a lot of bad information."

Worry gnawed at her. Momentarily. "She didn't have to thrall him, Angel. Will knew everything she was doing. Yeah. Everything." Angel appeared to be gearing up for a protest and she prevented it. "I mean _everything_. We don't keep secrets."

So she knew about the moments in the tunnel. Did William know everything about her, as well? "He knows you're here?"

"Duh." Buffy rolled his eyes. "No secrets. I just said that."

"Oh." He never realized how much she could annoy him, under all the petite, innocent blondness. "Fine," he gave in grudgingly, "what do you want to check?"

"If a person were to get bit by a vampire, get turned, when does the demon take over them?"

"When they wake up. Rise." He frowned. That was basic slayer knowledge. What was going on here?

"What happens?"

"When you rise?" He gave her a baffled, "I can't believe I have to explain this to you" look. "Well, in my experience, you wake up in your best suit and stiffest pair of shoes, buried in a little Irish churchyard reserved for the landed gentry, and you claw your way out, starving and out of your mind, drunk on a rush of superhuman power, and of course, looking for your sire."

"Sire? Darla."

"In my case. My demon is her demon's offspring, or mate, they're related, however you want to work it out. Your demon has one need- kill and drink a life force before you go raving mad with hunger. Your sire keeps you from eating a random passerby and getting set ablaze by the townsfolk." His Irish brogue appeared, ever so briefly.

"Your sire tells you who to kill?"

"Not specifically- usually." He looked deeply pained. "Darla knew me too well. She sent me straight home to feed. The demon goes that route anyway, once it's calmer, once it's not starving. It'll kill everything that reminds you that you were ever human."

Buffy listened to him speak, watching him go farther away, into a black place that scared her for multiple reasons, imagining Angel as Angelus, and imagining William coming after the people he loved best. Giles. Her mother. Willow and Oz. Her. "I meet a lot of recently turned vamps in my line of work." Buffy broke into his bleak recollections. "I don't typically see sires waiting around graves with little 'welcome to the afterlife' balloons."

"Those aren't real sires." Angel scoffed. "Those are fledges who drank too much and remember their own deaths, making new vamps and wandering off, leaving them to do the same thing in a day or two." He shook his head in disgust. "Amateurs."

Buffy sorted the aggravated master vamp out from the information. "Got it. Sire is a big deal, no sire equals stupidity and chaos." She licked her lips. "What happens- if they don't kill anyone? At all?"

"You mean anyone they know?"

"No. Anyone. Drusilla said a vampire can't help it. They have to 'pay the demon its due'. Give it a life, for the life it gives."

Angel rolled his eyes. "The Master or The Immortal probably told her that, even Darla. I never paid attention to the rules. The kill happens, and it's how you lead up to it that matters."

"Well, _I _killed the Master,_ you _killed Darla, and I have no idea who the hell the Immortal is, so try to help me out here." Buffy said tensely.

"Why does it matter? A vampire kills. You kill them first, you're the Slayer, you save innocent people." Angel shook his head at her adamancy.

"I'm asking what happens if you don't feed the demon!" Buffy slammed her mug down so hard it cracked.

He shouted back. "You have to! There's no choice, Buffy! Vampires need blood. If they don't feed, they wither up, but never die. No one can resist it. I have a soul and I still fed!"

"Not feeding! Killing! Taking a life! If the demon doesn't get offered the life-" she calmed down slightly, lowering her voice, "but the demon gets fed, has enough to 'live' on... what happens?"

Angel answered her question with a question, a wave of foreboding drenching him. "Who's been turned, Buffy? Is it Willow? Giles?"

"No one." _No one yet._

"Drusilla told him the truth. The demon gets its due. That's the end of the story. There isn't another outcome. You can't make a 'tame' vampire, that you keep on a chain and give it regular feedings." Their glances locked, then hurriedly parted, unwilling to remember the week she had done exactly that, for him. "I had a soul." He whispered quietly.

"I know you did. I'm just wondering- when does it leave? When you die? Because- you drink before you die. The demon enters your body, before your heart stops, or else you couldn't drink your sire's have to be alive enough to swallow." She and Will sat up all night, many nights, arguing this, reading _Vampyre_ and everything else they could borrow from Giles, making lists, diagrams, even charts Willow would've been proud of. They all ended up with questions left unanswered. "So." She breathed in deeply, then let it out slowly, trying not to shake. "There's a point where the person is still alive- and has the demon in them. They die- but they're already 'undead', just waiting to rise. When does the soul go? When does the demon take over?"

"And the real question is, why does it matter, Buffy?"

_No. No, you can't say, he told me not to say, _I_ told me not to say, this is a bad idea._ "William's dying."

* * *

"You're scared. I am too." Giles said earnestly. William didn't reply. "And you watched your mother pass. This isn't fair to you, but then again... life isn't fair." He recited hollow platitudes to his scowling nephew now that the two of them were alone. "You aren't making it easier, however."

"How'm I gonna do that, then, Bertie?" Will struck a match off the edge of his shoe.

"For one thing, stop speaking like some thug, and stop smoking." He grabbed the cigarette, hot end first, barely wincing as he squashed it out between thumb and forefinger.

_Tough old bugger. _Will rolled his eyes, "I'm not Oxford educated, like you."

"You could've been, but you wouldn't put in the application." Giles reminded him.

"And looks like it doesn't mean a bloody thing, now, does it?"

Silence. "What you're trying to do... is something I considered trying to do. For your father. For your mother. Do you know why I didn't?"

"You've seen vamps most of your life and you know they're evil murderin' demons?"

"That's most of it. You recall the little incident we had with Eyghon?"

"The cool tattoo turned out not so cool, yeah, I remember that." William snorted.

"I've been inhabited by a demon. I've watched what I brought forth kill people. People I loved. The only saving grace in that whole ordeal was at least it didn't look like me at the time. Mind you, seeing my old college friends turn up, decaying, trying to infect me, watching a demon rip through their skins was nearly as bad." He spoke so calmly, reflectively. It belied all the passion in his eyes, all the entreaty and warning he gave the boy that had become a son to him. "Do you ever think what it'll be like for me, for Buffy, when those beautiful blue eyes- Anna's eyes, turn yellow and you try to bite us?"

"I thought you were the smartest man I ever met." William pushed back his chair, limbs shaking just enough to be noticeable. "You think I'm heartless, and selfish, scared to die? Well... yeah, fine, I can be all those things. I can also be brave, an' sick of death beatin' up my family, whittlin' us down one by one. Sick of it beatin' up my best friend, the girl I loved since the day I watched her eyes light up when she read my poems. That's right. She liked my writing. My singin', too." He said wonderingly. Then the voice turned harsh again. "That girl who had to kill her first boyfriend, first true love-and what about you? You buried your grandparents, your parents, almost every friend you've ever had, your sister and your brother-in-law. You got some kind of urge for pain, Rupes? You so keen to put me in a box?"

"If I did not love you so much, I would punch you, flat out, for that." Giles seethed, standing as well. Two proud men, so different but so alike in many ways, both near breaking points, circled slowly, eyes locked.

"Look, here's the bottom line. I'm gonna try this, because it's a long shot, but it's the only shot I've got. If- if it doesn't work- you have a Slayer, a Witch, an' a Watcher who've killed a lot better than a scrawny fledge like I'll be. I figure, if you do love me- like you say you do... you can give me this. If I'm a monster, then you're killin' a monster, no matter that it looks like me, I won't blame you, an' eventually you'll stop blamin' yourselves. you'll know you all told me not to, but I wouldn't listen. But what if I'm able to hold onto myself? Then you'll have me for years, not just a few more weeks. I figure- you could give me two days on a gamble for another couple years, maybe more."

Giles' knuckles were white in tightly balled fists. "That's what you figure, is it?"

"I'm gonna die either way. I gotta long shot chance to come back. Say you'll bet on me?"

His uncle seemed to deflate, knees buckled, hands unclenched, spine rubberized and he sank onto the couch, catching his weary head in his hands. "This is the most dangerous, most asinine, riskiest thing I've ever heard you say- and I've known you your entire life."

"Buffy's behind me."

Giles laughed with a note of hysteria in his voice. "That doesn't surprise me. She'd follow you through fire and water."

"I'd do the same thing for her."

"I can't condone this."

"You don't have to. You just have to promise not to stop me from tryin'."

"I don't think I could." The broken man held out his hand to the dying one. "I hope, for all our sakes, that this works."

* * *

"You can't do it. Even if there was a way to keep him from becoming ruled by the demon, who would do it? You'd have to find a vamp who's looking to turn, not to kill. Most vamps are pretty picky about that, Buffy. You're making someone you wouldn't mind having around for a couple centuries, in your pack, and they'll be backing you up. Loyalty can go both ways, though it's definitely more one-sided. Sire loyalty will always win, but we still feel protective of our- of the ones we make." He hastily glossed over that thought, the memory of a thousand misplaced instincts that had caused him to let Drusilla go time after time. "Unless of course it's just a stupid fledge, turning because he thinks it's what you do. It'd have to be someone who wouldn't hurt him too much beforehand. How would you know that the vamp you picked was safe enough? Are you going to sit down with random vamps in Sunnydale before you stake them? Give them little interviews? 'How would you like a job? Say no and I'll kill you.'"

Though the information he provided was already something she'd considered, it was certainly spelled out more clearly and frighteningly than ever as he hectored on and on at her. Buffy hesitated before answering the bombastic brunette. "It would have to be a vampire we know."

Her tentative wording didn't matter. He caught the unasked question in her pause. "No! _No_, I am not going to do this!"

"It's not killing, it's- transforming!"

"It's taking a human life and I'm_ not _doing it! I will not create a monster, not one more. I know you think William is some super special guy, that he might be the one person in the history of the world who could get turned but not change- but you're wrong. He won't be someone you love anymore- and he won't love you back." Angel said heavily. He reached out to grip her shoulder. "You have to have a soul to love. Vampires. Can't. Love. Without. A. Soul." He ground out.

She shrugged off his hand. Sometimes the truth doesn't matter as much as the person you'd lie yourself into hell for. "Then someone with a soul, who is supposed to love me, should _help_ me save my best friend." Buffy argued fiercely.

"It isn't helping you, Buffy, it's hurting you more, later. Love means doing what's best for you. You're-" He echoed Joyce's words, "You're like any other young woman in love. You have such a good heart, and you think this is what you have to do. To make it work, even if-"

"You already did this speech when you broke up with me. Will and I are aren't quitting, so save it." She hissed, cutting him off.

He flung his hands up in angry exasperation. "Buffy, you this is just- just stupid!" For lack of any better term... He had no idea why she should suddenly laugh like that, a heart wrenching sound, a "can't tell whether to laugh or cry" sound.

"You know, I suddenly get my life." She put a hand to her temple as revelation suddenly dawned. "I get why he's the one. My whole life? Is stupid. Take a teenager who can use a curling iron better than a crossbow and make her a slayer. Stupid choice. Give me a Watcher so stiff I couldn't even think of him as a person for half a year, but tell me to trust my life to him. Stupid." Her words gained strength, her legs began to move, backing him into a corner with small, angry steps, but the steps kept coming. "Let me trust him, let him love me, and then- fire him, because he's not some sub-human advisor anymore. So stupid."

"Buffy-"

"Fall in love with a vampire with a soul, but who can lose it if you ever make him truly happy? Stupid. Funny, the heart does a lot of stupid things. Love that vamp when he's evil, try to save him, fail, try to mourn him, start to move on- and he shows up again? Maybe not stupid, but boy was it hard. Then let him break your heart a second time?"

"Stupid?" He supplied, wincing away from her torrent of words.

"You're actually listening to me. Good. Wanna know the one person who never, _ever _questions what I decide to do, whether it's a good idea or not? William. I owe him the same thing. He believes in me. I believe in him. Maybe that's stupid, too. I don't care. It fits this life I'm living, and I- really don't think I can live it without him."

Angel was pressed into the kitchen wall by that point, her chin definitely pointed at him as her eyes threw sparks. Her finger jabbed into his chest, and her words rang in his ears. In the silence she left, he could feel all sorts of old emotions, emotions he'd never really parted with, scratching at him. His head bent towards her, remembering how much he had loved this about her- the defiance, the sudden bursts of eloquence, the refusal to give up, even when she had nothing left. She'd bested him like that, and now she might best him again. His head lowered further, hands reaching for her- "What the hell are you doing?" Buffy backed up, wide eyed.

If vampires could blush, he would have been the world's tallest lobster. "I- uh, nothing."

"Right. Nothing." Buffy ignored the ache in her chest, in favor of the much greater ache that seemed to never leave her these days. "You wouldn't hurt him. He's- he's stopped treatments pretty much because they were actually making him weaker and they weren't helping it get better, just slowing the growth. He doesn't want to spend eternity in a body that's all -hrm- shriveled and messed up. So. I... think we need to do this, soon. Please?"

Angel sadly shook his head. "Buffy, if he loved you, he wouldn't ask you to do this. He wouldn't ask you to do something this painful and risky. If you do this, you're tied to him forever, protecting him, protecting everyone else _from _him, keeping him on track, not letting him feed, or, what will probably happen, killing him when he tries to kill you. He should- let you go. Let you be happy, after you grieve, after you move on. Enjoy the time you have left. Believe me- he doesn't want to live like this." Angel gestured to the dim, empty apartment, the strange city he'd gone to so he'd be apart from her, the city of strangers. "Living forever with an empty life."

Buffy stared at him. "Of course you'd say that. That's what _you_ did. You think it's the right thing to do."

"It is!"

"You know, Angel..." she stepped slowly away, "not everything you did was actually so great for the people involved."

"I know I hurt you, I know it and I'm sorry, but-"

"I would rather risk the greatest pain in the world on a less than one percent long shot chance for making it, making him okay, than live with the pain of knowing I never tried. That pain would never go away." Buffy whispered. "You don't get that. You don't think like that." _You stopped trying when you thought it hurt too much..._

"Maybe it's because I know pain, Buffy. I lived it. I _inflicted_ it. I know about suffering, and I know about causing it."

"I think you still like to." Buffy sniffed in suddenly, and pushed her shoulders back as they'd been bowing under the weight of his words as they crushed her hopes, belittled her efforts.

"What? No! I'm trying to help you, help you never go through that kind of pain again!" He swallowed. "Don't you think once was enough?" He pressed his palm to his heart, surely broken, where she'd been forced to stab him, forced to kill the demon wearing his face.

"Well, Angel, I guess that's what makes me the Slayer, and you the guy who ran away. It's my job to keep getting beat down, until I die young and alone. Or," she turned away, so done with this conversation now, "until I find the guy who makes all the pain stop, and who keeps on fighting, just as hard as I do."

* * *

"Not a great meeting." Buffy announced angrily. "How was _your_ night?"

William sighed and rubbed the dark patches under his sinking eyes. "Bertie found out about your recon mission, and he's downstairs bashin' the pain away with the best scotch in the house."

"Is he gonna kill me when I show up tomorrow?" Buffy twirled the phone cord around her finger and laid back on the bed in her father's house.

"Nah. He's in numbed mode. He knows short of killin' me first, he can't stop me. Think he's just revvin' up for killin' me after." Will laughed painfully, and then coughed for thirty seconds before he could get his wind back.

"Don't talk like that." Buffy whispered finally.

"It's the truth, Luv. And you. You gearin' up for the same?" He asked in a voice that said he was already dreading the answer.

"No! I'm- I'm not." _Really not._ _Because..._ There was that weird permanency in their relationship. Parts of her hinted, whispered persistently enough to make her stop listening to screaming logic, _You'll never hurt him. Whatever he is, or becomes. William is just- my Will. _"We have enough other stuff to worry about, so stop- stop worrying about me and you."

His heart expanded, much wider than his lungs currently could manage. "That's my girl. I love you."

Such simple honesty and so absolute. Always been like that. _And what did I want? Mr. Mystery who's idea of a date was stalking you to dinner and a movie._ "I love you. I love you a lot, and right now I'm really wishing fifteen year old me had done better at throwing myself at you."

"I'm wishin' the same, only about me wastin' less time bein' too worried to lose my best friend."

"Yeah. Yeah, there was that. A lot of that." She would have died without him that first year. She needed the solid friend to deal with everything else, the divorce, the slaying, the new house, school, cliques and losing everything she'd been in LA. "I was selfish. I needed a friend so much that I-"

"I did the same thing. A girlfriend you might date and break up with- and I couldn't loose one more person." He cut her off, blunt yet soothing. "Needed you, Buffy."

"Still?"

"Forever."

_We can make that happen. We _have _to make that happen. _"He said Drusilla's crazy, and you probably didn't know what she was saying. With the bleeding to death and the creepy making out."

"But he didn't flat out say it's not true?"

Buffy hesitated. "Well, yeah. He did kinda say that. But he also said he didn't pay attention to anything Darla and Drusilla might have learned from the Master or this other guy, some Immortal someone." She licked her lips. "He said- said your demon listens to its sire. Depends on it. Like- like they'll train you when you first wake up, make sure you make a kill." Her mouth felt sour. Will killing anyone was an unfathomable picture. Will punching someone in the throat with a guitar? Totally believable. Will murdering innocent people? Her stomach tried to eject itself.

"So what if you kill the sire as soon as you wake up? Then it can't control you? Or what if someone else does it?" In his own bed, wheels never stopped turning in his desperate mind. _Has to be a way, has to be a way..._

"You get bit, you get turned, then I slay your sire?" She struggled to say what he said so easily. Words like this should not have any connection with her William.

"Somethin' like that." He shrugged in his pillow.

"That's another thing. Will... who are we going to get to do this? I was hoping Angel- I mean, I know you're not president of his fan club, but you know he tried to do the right thing-"

"An' this is the wrong thing. Accordin' to him. I figured you'd ask. Figured he'd shoot you down."_ Bastard doesn't care about what matters to her. 'Specially if it's me. _"Don't worry about who, this place is a Hellmouth. Gotta find one someplace."

"No, I have to worry about it!" Ever since Angel pointed out how enormous that piece of the equation was, it was weighing heavily on her mind. "We're talking about a demon without any reason to help us, especially if they find out one of us wants to slay them right afterwards. They could -" her voice seemed to come out in chunks, difficult words caught in her throat, "could run off before letting you drink. They could say they're turning you, but instead, drink you dry. There's not a lot of difference between dead and dying with enough energy to swallow."

"They could rip my bloody throat right out of m'neck, and in the shape I'm in-" she could practically hear the "sod it all" shrug in his voice, "wouldn't be much point rushin' me to the hospital, now would there?"

"So what the heck are we going to do?"

What she'd told him he would do, all along, a black angel, death's angel, arriving too early, with a date to keep later. "I know who's gonna do it, Slayer. I know who'd be _glad_ to do it. I just have to find her."

_Drusilla. _

Neither spoke the name out loud, but since they just about shared a brain these days, it didn't matter.

"Be careful." Buffy whispered finally.

"You'll be with me, makin' sure I stay careful." He replied automatically.

It left her cold, but gave her a warm rush at the same time. Just knowing they'd be together, facing whatever. Another reason she'd do anything to save this. Save him.

The silence meant she was thinking. He could tell what. Could tell because he was thinking the same thing.

The closer it gets to the curtain, the more we want the encore. No, not even the main show for us, that hasn't even started yet. All this was just the introduction.

"You comin' home tonight? No, you said tomorrow."

"I'll come now if you want me to." Buffy's ribs double timed, trying to keep up with her heart.

Will craned his neck to look at the clock above his doorway. After midnight. A couple hour drive from LA. Getting late, even for her, his night owl, and his energy was less all the time. "No... No, it's late. Stay at your dad's place. How is he?"

"I don't know. I let myself in with my key. He's hardly ever home, I guess. Hardly calls, hardly around. It works out for now."

"Wish you were here, all the same."

"Me, too. Or you were here."

"Missin' you, baby."

"I'll see you in the morning."

"Countin' on it. Only, think I can come to you?"

"What?" Buffy abruptly lost the burning warmth and hazy, sleepy feeling she had gotten while listening to Will talking about them being together. "Here?"

"Unless you think your dad will mind. Or you-"

"No! No, I don't think he will, even if he shows up. But I wasn't planning to stay. I really only came to see if Angel could ... help. Visiting Dad, or at least my old house, was just an add on since it got so late. I only planned to stay overnight at the most."

"I think you might wanna stay anyway, since I'm plannin' to head over regardless."

"Why?"

William took a deep breath, and felt it catch. Air felt thick, sucking it in and pushing it out actually hurt. He watched the taut peaks of his abs heave as his lungs struggled to grab another breath. "Remember how they said three to six months back in June?"

Buffy swallowed. "Yes."

"It's August."

Two months. One month left at the worst, four at the most.

That was if he'd kept getting rigorous treatments. He hadn't.

When she spoke again, her voice sounded wet. "Stay there. G-get back on the treatment plan. Call your doctor, the oncologist, the radiologist and -"

"That shit makes me feel worse. Don't need to spend the next couple days sleepin' and hurlin'. Wanna spend it with you. Wide awake. Not trapped in the loo."

"I can sleep next to you. I can wait outside the door. Please, Will? At least let them check and-"

"See if it's grown?" His smile twisted, so bitter, something cruel under it, mirroring the hand life was dealing him. "It has, Buffy. I don't need a scan for that. It hurts a little more each day. Each day feels like I walk a little slower, breathe a bit harder. I'm gonna need all the strength I can to track her down."

"Exactly, we need to figure out where she is! You have some time to get checked."

"I know where she is. She's always there. Waitin'."

Chills slowly crept down her spine. "Waiting for you?"

"No. Not just me. Waitin' for Angelus." Will groaned softly as he shifted in his bed. "If Angel's in LA, she's somewhere nearby. All we have to do is get her to come out and play."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time._

_Dedicated to Illusera, Kitakana, Omslagspapper, AGriffinWriter, Jhiz, The Darkness Befalls, TieDyeJackson, micmoc, The TwistedSisterxx, Sirius120, and Ginar369. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part VI**

"Your mom isn't going to go for this." Willow paced with her cordless phone.

"I don't really think she has a choice. I'm eighteen and I got hold of Dad. He says, like he always says, 'It's still your house, Princess.' He just won't be back to share it with me anytime soon."

"Where is he?"

"Tokyo for business and then he has some 'stop offs' to make on his way back. Not to be gross, but I'm thinking layovers really have a double meaning with my dad, now that he's a 'swinging bachelor'."

"Oh. Oh gross. So much gross."

"I know! It's like thinking about Giles being all... yeah."

Willow blushed as she sat on the edge of her bed. "I think about Giles like that. I mean,_ thought _about! Past tense, pre-Oz! And not in detail!"

Buffy laughed briefly, then sighed as the more serious issues took over her mind once more. "I don't think Mom'll like it, but I don't think she'll stop it. Even if she wanted to, there's no way I can let her." Her voice quivered. "Will needs this chance."

"Is Will just going to leave? Is he going to talk to Giles, even? What's Giles going to say?" Willow worried and wondered.

"Same thing, I guess. He'll hate it, but he'll have a hard time stopping it. That's fine. Maybe we'd better get used to being on our own." The tremble was much more pronounced. They didn't talk about the after part. The what if it worked, or sort of worked part. Hadn't yet, anyway.

If Giles wouldn't believe he was safe, if her mom threw her out again, they'd be on their own by default. "I really can't see Mom accepting this. I remember what happened when I told her the truth about me- and I was a good guy, world saving guy! Will... Will's going to be different in a way we've always said was bad."

"Buffy- you're not sure, not one hundred percent sure- that she's wrong about that." Willow pointed out gently.

"I know. But it doesn't matter. You get that, right? With Oz- we've met werewolves who were demons all day, all night, every day and night, no matter how 'human' they were."

"The wolf is always in him." Willow and Oz had realized that recently. It was about control, and there was a hope that one day Oz's control would be strong enough to best the demon even when the moon called it to rise. "And a demon will always be in Will- the vampire is always there, control or not. Like the wolf. But-"

"No more buts, Willow." Buffy's voice was soft but held a note of warning. _Please don't make this any worse..._

"Okay." The redhead swallowed. "You don't have to be on your own. Even if Giles and Joyce don't believe he's safe, if you say he is, we'll believe you. Oz and I."

Buffy felt some relief wash over her. "You don't think we're being completely stupid?"

"No. I think you both are... but- I get it. If it were Oz, I'd do the same thing. There are people you'd do anything for."

* * *

"Anything you can do to help a sick man, Red?" Will showed up at her house early, a few bags packed.

"Oh. Oh! Come in." Willow hustled him upstairs.

"Who is it, Willow?"

"It's Will, Mom!"

"Is he staying for breakfast?"

"Are you?" Willow asked him.

"I don't think so. Bertie's sleepin' off about a pint of single malt now, but who knows how long that'll last?"

"He can't stay, Mom! He just- uh- I have something I need to give him to take to Buffy's house!"

"Okay. Is he sure he doesn't want to stay? It's blintzes!"

"It's blintzes." Willow added.

William laughed and shook his head, then kissed her cheek swiftly.

Willow blinked. "Wow. What was that for?" Her eyes glowed and her cheeks bubbled in her broadest smile as she motioned him to come to her room.

"I was thinking about how Buffy tried to fix us up, and I ended up fixin' you up with Oz instead."

"I've been thinking about that, too." Willow's eyes were suddenly brighter than normal. "I owe you."

"Nah. I like you two together. You make him talk more than anyone else. Smile more, too. He loves you so bloody much, you do know that, right? Smart girl like you knows that."

"I know that." Willow nodded. "Which is why I still say I owe you. Look." She hastily kicked some laundry out of sight and rummaged in her closet, coming out in a few minutes with a handful of books and unidentifiable trinkets.

"Lookin'. Not exactly seein'."

"Everything I read says magic doesn't work on naturally occurring illnesses. Symptoms, yes, but not the cause. You _can _make something temporarily better, but then, when the spell wears off- boom. It's like bad on steroids. As sick as you would have been getting one day at a time comes back in the space of like thirty seconds when the spell is done. It's a bad fix, and it's not long term." Willow said, frustration in her eyes.

"Well, I'm pretty temporary myself these days, Red." Will sat on the edge of her bed, legs spread, hands clasped and dangling between them as his elbows rested on his knees.

"But still... I'm a klutz. My spells have a lot of power, not a lot of- what's the word- _precision. _Yeah, precision's a good word. I might end up shrinking your pancreas instead of your tumors. Too risky."

"I'm all about risk lately." He launched himself off the bed and paced in a tight circle. Look, I just need somethin' to get me through another week. Or two."

Willow looked horrified. "Is it that bad? Will, why aren't you in the hospital?"

"Because I can't do anything hooked up to a bag of meds and havin' my lungs fried. I have a set of fangs to track down an' maybe battle into submission."

Willow hesitated. That sounded like a fast track to dead. "I- I made this charm. Practicing. It was going to be for Buffy, but you remember the whole 'burn the witch' thing that interrupted my life?"

"That was a bad week. Could put you right off practicing." William encouraged.

"It's for strength and protection. It's not very powerful, and I think it has an expiration date, or gets used up or something. B-but I was thinking, maybe you could use it? To keep you from feeling weaker, or feeling worse, anyway." In the armful of trinkets she carried, she managed to unearth one, a dangling piece of cord, crystal, and stone. "It's not a cure. It's finished now. It's not much-"

"But everything helps. Ta, luv." He slipped it over his head, with her help, and then they stood, close, standing awkwardly for a moment. "See you soon."

"See you soon." He began to step back but found himself snared by a sudden frantic grip.

"Be okay. And if you aren't... remember how much she loves you. Don't..." Words were trapped inside a web of fears and doubts that should never exist. "Just don't."

_Don't hurt her. Don't break her heart. Don't kill her. Don't make her kill you, which would do all those things, break her heart, hurt her, maybe even kill her. _"It's a promise."

"Don't break it." Willow's grip loosened, but her face seemed to tense, sealing over. She said nothing more, but William understood her warnings.

"I won't." He kissed her cheek once more, patted the charm in place across his chest, and headed to his car.

* * *

_This should be nice. Kind of daring, kind of new, in an all grown up way. _Buffy straightened her room, drove her small second hand car to the market, buying his favorite snacks, healthy foods to try to actually cook actual meals, making everything welcoming.

_It's our first time alone together. _Really _alone. On our own. Like adults. _

_ Doing adult things... Maybe..._

* * *

Bags were strewn on the couch. Food went uneaten.

She was all he wanted to taste.

"No, don't take it off." William tucked the amulet down through his collar as she slipped his shirt above his head. "I think it works. Hurts a bit less to breathe."

"Kiss it, make it better." Buffy smiled softly and lay him back on her bed of white and pink striped cotton.

He arched under her lips, fingers scrabbling on the edged of her shirt, pawing gently up her back as he searched for the catch of her bra. "Missed you like you've been gone for years, not hours." He grunted, ever the poet.

Sweet desperation. "Same." She panted and sat up, shaking slightly as she felt his hands connect with her skin, shirt pushing up over her head.

He gasped in. Not like he hadn't seen her in bikinis at the beach, but this was- this was decidedly sexual and it tingled his lover's heart, with all the tragedy in this first time of love making.

Possibly first time.

The gasping set off a racking crescendo in his lungs, and positions shifted, romance shot to hell. Water was gotten, then the emergency inhaler the doc in London had given him to use for "breathlessness."

"You do-"

"Shh, I can wait." Buffy hushed him as he tried to talk before the coughing was really gone.

"You do- leave me- breathless." William choked out, clutching her hand.

"I will again, too." Buffy rested her cheek to his forehead, arms circling his shoulders.

_It shouldn't feel like this. Like it's sad. Like there's pity. She had that- the last time. She made love with that git because it was about to end between them, at least temporarily, him trekkin' off with bits of the Judge, leavin' her behind, like some soldier's bride._ "Buffy, we shouldn't. Shouldn't do this because you-" the pain in her eyes and sudden hurt and vulnerability on her features made his lips seal involuntarily. He wouldn't dare bring up Angel and her motives that first time. No more pain for her, not from him. " Shouldn't do this because you're not on the pill. Are you?"

"Huh?" Buffy was surprised. "No. No, I um... I thought we could use something else?" _Why get it, when the guy you're dating plans to loose his baby-making ability pretty darn soon? _

"That's just it, Luv, I didn't bring any. An' unless you want to go rummage around in your dad's -"

"Stop. Stop right there." Buffy held up her hands. "We are both going to swear to forget you ever said that."

"Killed the mood?" _Good._

"Kinda."

"Sorry."

"I don't care if we do... other things." Buffy hinted, though her stomach was in knots.

_Other things._ William envisioned her performing a variety of those euphemisms and felt his heart hammer painfully on his weakened lungs. "You ever done those 'things' before?"

Buffy did a rapid replay of her only sexual encounter. Kisses. Passionate, weepy kisses, hushed voices, fumbling, hurrying, eagerness overcoming them both, years of solitude shattering on Angel's part, and then- just shattering. "No. Just the- the big ticket item." She blushed.

"I wanna do everything with you." _To you_. A darker lust surged under the steady love he had for her. "But when it's mutual. Call me a stubborn one, but I like mutual participation." His turn to blush. "Not that I did it before."

"You didn't? Even with scorpion tattoo girl?" She asked, almost shyly.

"Nope. Strangely limited in spite of my devastating good looks and charm." He laughed and she joined him. Then he sobered before his lungs could protest again. "I am serious, though. Don't want to risk makin' us parents. We've enough to deal with and... I really, really don't ever want to watch my own kids go through this." Buffy took his hand. "Funny, init? When you're nineteen and you start datin' the girl you're mad about, you don't picture kids. You picture plenty of what you do to make 'em." They exchanged a small, knowing smirk. "But then they tell you you're dyin'. That you couldn't have avoided it anyway, it was in your effin' DNA the whole time...suddenly you think about parents an' kids, and you realize you're never gonna have 'em." He watched her eyes spill suddenly, and wiped them away as easily as holding her hand, the gesture too often practiced. "You realize that girl would make one hell of a mum."

"Will." She shook her head.

"You realize you never really had a dad."

"Baby, shhh." She tried to put a finger to his lips, but he spoke past it.

"Realize you might've made a decent one, with the right girl behind you, but it won't matter now. An' the worse it gets, when you realize they weren't joking around, you realize you'd rather not be one. 'Cause you think it'd kill you, watchin' your child go through this." He bowed his head suddenly, as if talking had left him exhausted. "Man, I hope my mum and dad are busy up there."

"Oh God, Will!" Buffy burst into tears and flung herself into his arms. "Stop talking, okay? Poetic angst might work for you, but you're going to kill me." She sniffled into his shoulder. "It's going to be okay... it really is. And- I don't need to raise a baby. I have a world to save every about nine months, that's enough 'labor'. Besides, I already don't get enough sleep."

"You're givin' up a lot for me. Biggest risks you can take."

She nodded. It was several seconds before she murmured, "You know that night- a long time ago, when I came to your window and said I wrecked my mom's car, and two guys were chasing me?"

"Yeah?"

"You got right out of bed and came down to help me. You didn't even blink. You didn't know if you were walking into danger. Then a couple months later, they said I was psycho girl, and that I had to be tied down 'cause I could have an 'episode'? You sat right next to me and said you believed me. You got me free." Her bright green eyes met his brilliant blue. "I think you took all the risks early. I said I owed you one. Then I must've owed you about a million. This is just payback, but just so you know..." Her lips met his, and they sank back again, slower this time, more peaceful this time, "I would have done it anyway."

* * *

"I figured you'd be there." Giles' voice was pinched.

"You're super smart." Buffy said with false cheer.

"Buffy, tell him to come back."

"I can't do that."

"Then I'll come there."

"Are you going to help us?"

"Yes, if by help you mean take care of you both and prevent you from doing things which will cause you untold sorrow."

"Nope, that wasn't what I meant by help."

He groaned. "Where is William?"

"Making waffles and cutting up a cantaloupe. Yelling at the dog races on television. My dad has waaaay too many cable channels." Buffy answered complacently.

"Do you think this is a game?" Giles roared. In his flat, glasses and plates shattered as he hurled an empty whiskey bottle into the sink.

"No." Buffy kept her voice calm and even. "I think this is the part I was hoping to avoid. The part where I tell you that you stay put, unless you come to help. The part where I remind you that you're in great shape, but you're mortal and pushing forty from the other side, and I'm a young, tough Slayer, and I can pick you up with one hand and throw you back out into the street. With distance and accuracy, because you trained me. This is the part where you might stop being the best man I know, and become my enemy." Buffy's voice wobbled ever so slightly. "This is the part, Giles. And it's all up to you if we get there or not."

He stopped. Hangovers and grief that even drink couldn't shake bowed him low. He sank into a chair, unshaven and suddenly alone and small. He might lose Will. Oh dammit, it was a certainty at this point. He didn't have to lose her as well. She'd find out the hard way, like he had before, and then they'd need each other more than ever. "Will you... will you call me each day? Will you keep me informed?"

"Absolutely."

"If you're successful- u-up to a point, that is, will you call me while you're waiting?"

"For him to wake up?"

_It's not waking up. It's something else rising, wearing his face. _Scotch lurched up, stinging and stinking across the hardwood floor. "Yes." He gagged out.

She hesitated. "I'll call you once I know it's safe."

"Buffy, no, now listen-"

"When it's _safe_." She repeated sternly. _He doesn't want me to go through this. I don't want him to. But at least I'm willing to take a risk, he's held hostage by his own blood, his own love._ "I'm stronger than you think Giles. I can handle it."

"No one can 'handle' it." He hissed.

"Yeah, well... at least I've had some practice." Buffy shrugged sadly. "Stay put. Pray. See you soon."

* * *

"Dark soon. Vacation's over."

"Our vacations have been super sucky this summer."

"Yeah, but it's the first one we've gotten to actually spend together, right, Luv?"

"That's you. Mr. Brightside."

"Gonna be a really strange vamp, aren't I?" He tried to joke.

She assisted. "Good thing I like a little monster in my man. But seriously needs to have the cheerful to make the relationship work, okay?"

"I'll smile at you loads, Pet, fangs an' all." That gallows humor trotted out and obligingly chuckled over, they stood by the window, watching the sun sink in the August sky.

"How are we going to find her? Sunnydale is so much smaller, and I know the worst places to be. Which is, admittedly, most of town, but-"

"You know this city all right. You'll get us through." William said with unshakable confidence in her.

Buffy forced herself to echo the confidence. "Around Angel, you think?" He nodded. "Can't be too close, or he'd try to run her out of town. Not kill her, just force her to be someone else's problem." Buffy's voice turned hard. "He could kill his sire, sure, but not her."

"Kinda pleased about that at the moment." William reminded her drily.

"Oh, no, Will, I know we need her, I just..." _Am scared. Worried. Jealous. Have a bad history with her. Darla was a blip on the radar, Drusilla's like a recurring nightmare... _"Just wondered."

"I have a thought about it." William knew she wouldn't like it. He didn't much care right then. "I think Angel likes to suffer, and Angelus likes to play Lord Evil, Master Vamp. Darla made him. He made Drusilla. Would Angel rather have around a woman who groomed him into the king of torture, or the worst thing he ever made to keep him feeling shamed and remorseful?" She nodded stiffly. "And Angelus- sounds like he likes to take what's ripe and fresh and carve it up. Think Darla was the master craftsman where he was concerned."

"You're all kinds of insightful." Buffy muttered.

"Which is gonna help us find her, Baby." He took her hand and led her from the house. "Where's Angel?"

"We're not going there, are we?" Buffy yelped.

"No, we're gonna triangulate."

"Sounds dirty yet mathematical." He elbowed her. "Sorry. Serious face. What are we doing?"

"Find his neighborhood, the nearest bad neighborhood, and the nearest posh one, and work the zone in between the three points. Drusilla will want to be near enough to find him quick if she wants him, far enough away to stay out of his bad graces, and ..." he smiled to himself, "and she's mad. She's a murderin' freak, mixed up with this lost little girl. She likes the edges between. She could go to a dance in Hollywood and dazzle them all, and be just as happy playing games in the alleys with the drunks the next night."

"How do you know so much about her?" Buffy asked with a tiny glimmer of suspicion.

"Insight. And... she knew me. So well." He shivered inside, her whispers in the tunnel now seeming to caress his ear once more. "I like the edges, too."

Buffy followed him out to the street, trying not to let him see the sudden sweat making a sheen across her face in the moonlight.

* * *

"This isn't working. There's too much territory, not enough us." _Plus, you can't walk too far, and the cars can't go every place we need them ato, not into graveyards and tiny alleys._ Buffy sat down and eased her shoes off as the sun rose several days later. William sat beside her, his color chalky, chest seeming to fight out each breath. Buffy helped him sit up and tried not to show too much desperation. _This has to end soon. Good or bad. He- he's already starting to turn into something else, I'm just not sure what._

"She... she's here." He said with conviction. "Feel her. Like a prickle in your back when you know someone's watching you."

"Maybe she is, but she's not sure if _you're_ looking for _her_." Buffy was again wary of the connection they had sparked, and worried more than ever that she was going to lose him, no matter how "successful" they were.

"Gotta send her some kind of sign I guess." William wracked his brains, so tired, body so tired that only thoughts of sleep would manifest. "You mind if I crash, Buff?"

"Only if I can stay next to you and crash too."

"Yes, please." He shoved his black boots off and let her pull him up the stairs to her bed, which was their bed for now.

* * *

"I don't think I'll ever be dark and mysterious." Buffy told herself as he slept beside her. He came slowly, unobtrusively awake, listening to her soft whispers as she hugged her knees to her chest. "Nope. Sunny girl trapped in a night shift ready body. Sucks. I can't compete with freaky eternal life, mind games, and visions."

"You're bein' a dummy." Will's voice startled her.

"You're supposed to be asleep! Sound asleep! Last night I literally _fell_ on top of you and you didn't wake up!" Buffy yipped in surprised irritation.

He ignored her comments. "I heard you. First off, I don't need a competition, 'specially not the kind you were mentionin'. Second, you're not always so bright and sunny, Beautiful. You are the master of dark and mysterious." He pulled her down beside him, nose to nose, eyes unguarded. "I'm just one of the few lucky ones you let see inside. If this was a competition, you'd win. You've had me first. You've had me from the start, Buffy. An' you appeal to all of me, not just bits and pieces. You capture my light, and my dark. There's a lot of both in me."

"Me, too." Buffy confessed, awed again to hear him prove just how he well he knew her. "I'm just good at hiding it."

"From most of the world. We gave each other a pass a long while back."

"Sometimes I think I must not be looking at you hard enough then." Buffy ran her hand from his cheek to his shoulder. "I see a lot of sadness, lot of anger, but nothing so ... dark. Maybe a teeny little trace." She kissed his chin.

" 'Cause you glow so bright, Slayer. Blot out everything in your sunlight. Make me shine."

"I love you."

"Love, you." He struggled. Maybe he hid himself, maybe it was that it ebbed around her, but he must let her know before... well, in case. "So much dark is for you. Because I know... What I feel for you can't be- altogether pure."

"What do you mean?" She asked, breath hitching in suspense.

He rolled onto her with an effort, kissing her. "Want to have you, love you always. Want to... feel like owning and possessing would be the right words, only it's not like that. I could- burn in you and I want you so bloody bad it hurts, and I want you to feel the same. Want it to drive you mad... way you drive me. Need me enough that it makes you ache." He kissed her until both were breathless, then slid off, wide eyed and shocked._ What've I done? What've I just said?_ "Sorry." He gasped.

"Don't be." She grabbed his hand and locked it in hers. "So bad it hurts, huh?"

"I know. Scared you?"

"No... Oh no." Buffy felt thrilled, felt electricity running all over her skin, in particular down to one location.

"So hungry for you." He swallowed. "But soon I'll be able to bite." _Which makes me just a bit worried, if I'm honest. 'Cause God, would she taste good... I could devour her. _He wasn't thinking of biting now, far from it, but the intensity of his craving almost overwhelmed him.

Her hips moved restlessly beside his. He felt the subtle shifting and looked over. His girl. Burning for him. "I don't want to hurt you, ever." He rolled to his side, one hand slipping free from hers and trailing across her stomach, catching the sudden tensing forward, and then when she let her hips glide down, his hand followed, resting gently between them.

His fingers kneaded gently. "You won't hurt."

"But I might bite." Fingers were less gentle,a deliberate hard push, to remind her that she had to take care. To his shock, her hips widened as she muted a whimper.

"Won't hurt... too much." Her heart thundered and her skin scalded as she realized his fingertips were probably literally wet now. Wet with wanting him.

"Oh no, Buffy, not at all. Not if I could make it feel good." He whispered in her ear. "Don't you know I'd never hurt you if I could help it?"

"You're afraid you can't help it? After?" She moved , but he moved with her, gentle pressure building. "Will..."

"I'm afraid. I'm afraid of a lot of things. So are you. We just have to keep up the act, don't we?"

"With everyone but each other." His head bumped to hers as her hips fed his hand. "You said mutual the other day!" She squeaked as she turned slick.

"Proves what I said." Will withdrew his hand with a hiss. Both of them shuddered at loss of contact. "Around you, I can't help myself." His frustration with himself suddenly boiled over, weeks of swept under the rug worries bursting out. "Around you, I'm dangerous, I forget what I said, what I meant, what limits we -"

"But you don't change what you want." Buffy sat up and put the light on, looking at him seriously. "Maybe the -the how and when changes, but not what."

"Not _who_." he corrected and cupped her cheek. "Always about you."

She believed him, nodding. "Then we'll be okay. We'll be _fine_."

"If we can find her."

"We will. And- dark or light, whatever you're afraid of, Will, you don't have to be afraid with me." Buffy said earnestly. She shushed him with a kiss as he was about to protest once more, "Maybe I like the edges, too."

* * *

While he slept, he chased her. Kept catching hold of billowing white muslin and gauze, only to find it ripped from his hand with one of her insane giggles. She whispered but he couldn't make out the sounds.

"William. Look over here." Buffy sat in the sun, the beach near their high school, smiling sweetly as she waved to him against the golden background.

"No, no. This way, sweet boy." Drusilla called him in a croon, decidedly unsafe, and yet far more appealing to him just then. She was in moonlight, perched on spires, down in ditches, everywhere all at once. Waiting to consume him.

And he froze in the middle of both worlds, light and darkness bleeding until it burst a vein, and shadows pumped out of him as he drifted back awake.

* * *

Buffy woke with a gasp that echoed his. Hard not to wake when your boyfriend rears up, gasping and shaking, spasming himself into a coughing fit as his heart hammered and his lungs tried to sprint. "Take this, take this." She pushed water into his hand and held the inhaler up to his mouth until he could grasp it and depress it. By the time he could breathe again, she was shaking too.

"Hospital?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Hacksaw." He corrected.

"What?" Buffy was genuinely flummoxed.

William staggered up and parted the curtains. Around the red-brick Los Angeles home, in its stately suburbia, was a black wrought iron fence. "We need some of those."

"What?" She asked again, then shook her head. "Not to be boring or anything, but what actually is the only word I need here. What about a hacksaw, what do we need, what's going on?"

He didn't answer directly, too busy looking at the pointed black spears. "She says I'm her Spike. A spike of light in the dark, and dark in the light. She needs to know my name. The name she gave me."

Buffy froze beside him. To hear him talking about Drusilla like that was unnerving, to hear him talking like this at all, half-lost, all cryptic, confused her. _Does cancer of the lungs make your brain loopy too?_ "I don't understand." She touched his arm lightly.

He finally turned to look at her. "I've come to her, but I can't find her. Too big a city, too many people, too many vamps, even." They'd seen a few in their patrols. "Drusilla needs to know I'm here, and I did come to her, just like she said I would. Not William, but Spike."

Buffy watched his eyes narrow and slit. She realized she'd only ever noticed the way the blue eyes danced in laughter, smoked in romance, the way his laughing smile could earn one of her own, no matter what. She never realized his face was so perfect in its lines, and how absolutely cruel and cunning the face could be.

_Spike. _

_ Buffy._

_ William._

_ Slayer._

Her own face hardened. _Fine. We both have two names. He's still mine to call. He's put up with my 'dark side' for years. _"Tell me what to do."

"You won't like it." William's lips twisted into a snarl, eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"I said, 'Tell me what to do, _Spike_." Buffy forced herself between him and the window, forced him to look at her face and read the seriousness on it.

He gripped her hand, he gripped her waist, dragging her to him, to kiss his perfect woman. "You're gonna help me leave calling cards in this city. _Slayer_."

* * *

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time._

_Dedicated to Omslagspapper, AGriffinWriter, The Darkness Befalls, micmoc, Sirius120, Rosalea12, and Ginar369. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part VII**

She was the one doing the hard work, the actual gruesome part that he was right about- she didn't like it.

"I'm glad Giles made me practice with that big stick thingy." Buffy panted.

"Quarter staff." Will panted as well, leaning on the brick wall of the alley, hands clasped over his chest, eyes tilted skyward as he sucked in congested lungfuls of air. "You... okay?"

"Yep. I can do another one." Her face was set. "Let's go back to the car and get some more." She began to march away, hands jammed in her pockets.

Will stumbled after her, away from what they'd left in that alley. He clutched her elbow. "Don't have to do more. One's bad enough."

"Every one we leave, is another chance it's one she'll find. I can do more." Buffy argued, her voice hard.

"Let me do this one." Will offered, but they both knew, sincere as it was, it wasn't an offer she could take, that he should make.

He was too slow to run a vampire down. Too tired to sustain battle until the vampire was knocked out or at least knocked down. Too weak to twirl three and half feet of iron spike around his head and then plunge it down, through a chest, through the surface of the street, and leave the creature impaled but not yet dead.

Buffy shook her head. "I can do it." She whispered.

"But you hate it." It wasn't her. To cause pain, to not make a clean kill, to prolong suffering, even suffering of a murdering demon- that had never been something she would do.

"I love you." She said simply. "Let's go."

* * *

"We're gonna owe your dad a new fence." Will lay on the couch, watching her from underneath a thin blanket. She came in after taking three more "spikes", cutting them loose with some old file in her dad's toolbox, and then breaking them out by hand and her super strength.

Buffy wiped her hands off and shrugged. "So, we'll buy him a new fence." She sat next to him, took his hand. It was cool. She looked at him carefully. The face looked more drained, more ashen, no, not ashen- there was a faint blue- white tinge around the lips and eyes that seemed to change the entire complexion. "Are you cold?"

"Ha. August in southern California, Luv?" He wheezed out a laugh and snuggled down onto the couch cushion, making a pillow for his dully aching head. "Just spent a lot of time runnin' about last night. Tired."

"You're not just tired. You look like you've been eating blue raspberry ice pops." Buffy scooted up and deliberately sat on his feet to warm them. "You're cold."

"I'm fine." _Maybe a little cold._ _But also- losing the oxygenation in the blood now. Damn, that's close to the wire... _

"Your fingertips are even..." They weren't blue, they were just sort of mottled, patchy. Will always had perfect skin. Buffy stopped talking, swallowed, and moved into his lap. "I think you need to get warmed up anyway." She smiled through sudden tears springing to her eyes.

He smiled up at her adoringly, draping his arms around her. "Mm, that's my girl. You can be my duvet while I grab a bit of shuteye?"

"Your what?"

"You'd call it a quilt." Will rolled his eyes at her.

"Whatever, I'll be blanky girl." She squeezed him tight and they snuggled down.

* * *

Another night downtown. Another three undead, but dying, spikes sticking through hearts, leading ever closer, making a path for her to follow.

Only she didn't follow it.

* * *

"I owe you. Lots of 'em." William pressed beside her in their bed, still mainly an innocent one.

"No you don't." Buffy said firmly, holding him tight.

"Practice bein' nocturnal." He murmured, eyes too heavy to keep open.

"Good practice." Buffy agreed, though silently she went over the fact that both of them had proved what a teenage body can do without sleep. Many nights they'd stayed up on patrol, gotten three or four hours of sleep, managed to do school, Bronze, and patrol the next night. Now Will had a definite time limit. He made it through their nightly hunt, barely, and slept most of the next day.

She watched him, a bedside angel, afraid to leave in case she missed the next breath, in case it wouldn't come. She willed those ragged wheezes from him, one at a time, and tried to ignore how thin he was getting, tried to pretend he was losing weight because he was sleeping through meals.

"I love you so much." Buffy whispered that day, burying her head in his shoulder.

"I love you, too." Will replied, not surprised by this sudden desperate clinging. He was doing it himself now, not believing it, but wondering if life was what he clutching. If he relaxed, stopped trying so hard, what would happen? _Reckon pretty soon I wouldn't wake up._

"I'm going to go find her." Buffy said in sudden resolution. "Maybe she doesn't see the vamps, or even the pile of ashes, around a 'spike'. Maybe she thinks 'fencepost'. She's a crackpot, maybe she doesn't get metaphor."

"An' you do?" He teased with a smile. A dying vampire. Spiked. A dead vampire, spiked. Just random single black spears in alleys and vampires left to die under them when morning came. It had to make someone notice something in the underworld. If only a passing comment. If they got free by daylight, so much the better. Gossip would start buzzin' about a Slayer and her young man, staking vamps with iron spikes, asking for her. If she was mingling with the other vamps. Who knew with her.

"This whole idea was bloody idiotic." He turned painfully.

"It wasn't!" Buffy turned with him, keeping her arms tightly around him. "I can't think of a better way to get attention from the vamps in this city."

"Well, I think they're staying in a bit more. Or you've killed the lot of 'em." Seemed like miles of walking last night and only two undead left for dead.

"If she won't come out, I'll go in." Buffy said grimly.

* * *

"You gotta get out more, man." Doyle urged his brooding champion. Or Irishman couldn't budge Angel from the flat, hadn't been able to for a week. "There's somethin' goin' on in town. Someone killin' vamps."

"More power to 'em." Angel slammed the door to his bathroom.

Doyle sighed. "I know you don't have any bodily functions to perform. I'll wait."

Angel couldn't even have the satisfaction of a good glare in the mirror. He rested his forehead against it. "A dead vamp is one less problem in this city. It's probably the Slayer." _She didn't go home. Maybe he died, nothing to go back for. Maybe this is what vacations at her dad's are like now? Can't stop slaying even on a break. It's only been a week, she sometimes stayed for the whole summer. _"It's probably Buffy. Let her kill them." _If she's killing them, at least that's all she's doing. She won't have them make a monster out of her "boyfriend." _

"From all you say about Little Miss Sunnydale-"

"I don't talk about her!"

"Let's just say your silence is deafenin', man. This doesn't smell right to me, Angel. Would your sweetheart of an ex, by all accounts a tender young thing, leave vamps wounded but not dusted, pinned to walls and alleys like some undead butterfly collection?"

Angel blinked as he washed his face with cold water. No, that sounded way more cruel. Vicious. Desperate. Someone who didn't care anymore. Someone who was playing fast and loose in their pain.

_Pain she thinks I can spare her. Ha. She doesn't know the heartache I'm saving her. Let her take it out on whatever she likes._

Angel opened the door, sending a startled Doyle reeling back as he tried to get his balance. He ignored him, stalking past him. "Sounds like the job still gets done. Don't bother me with the ones she leaves to die. Let me know if you hear about her taking one with her."

* * *

"I don't think she'll come out for you." Will mused, voice somewhat fuzzy with exhaustion and too many hours of thinking.

"I'll find her. I'll go into every house in the city if I have to."

They both knew she couldn't, both knew she'd try.

"Think we might run out of time first , Luv."

In bed, she stared at the ceiling, hands knotted over the knots in her chest, eyes unblinking. If she blinked, the tears would start falling. This way they just rested on the surface, blurring the plain white walls. "What do you want to do?" She finally managed to whisper.

"Go out tonight. Alone."

"No."

"Think I have to." His hand stole across the sheets and eagerly wormed between her pressed palms, grateful for her warmth. "I'm thinkin'... Drusilla doesn't want you an' me. She just wants me. Wants me to come to her. Doesn't want to be drawn out. I think by now, if she's even here, she's seen our grisly little decorations, and she knows the two of us are takin' 'em out, because she knows I could never do that." He laughed once, bitterly, "Even if I wasn't sick, I was never exactly a strappin' hunk of muscle, was I?"

"I thought you were. Still think you are." She ran her hand slowly across his chest. Still the muscles to drool over- and now the rib bones just out of sight, but almost able to be felt, if she pressed more. She dared not press, with her strength and his illness. She traced again, back up to his chin. "I don't look very strong, either. It's the insides." Buffy reminded him.

"Every anti-bullyin' campaign in school." He kissed the top of her head. They'd deviated for a moment, on purpose. They both realized they'd be back to it.

In a moment.

"Imagined us in bed together a lot. Not how I pictured it." He hugged her hand with his, resting them across his heart.

"I pictured this." Buffy blushed. "Just after a lot of- other things." They chuckled quietly. After sex that left them tired and spent, trying to hurry up and get some sleep after patrols but before college classes starting at eight. That's how it was going to be. _That's the dream, when your high school best friend turns into your high school-slash-college sweetheart. _ _It wasn't supposed to be that we're always drained, scared, worried, unrelaxing, unable to-_ Buffy swallowed._ Able to do things, but not the way either of us dreamed it._ "Doesn't matter. I like whatever we have, because you're in it." Buffy murmured.

"I'm a selfish bastard, aren't I?" Will murmured back, turning her head, peering into those glossy green eyes. He kissed her tears before they fell and thought that even they were sweet. _All of her is sweet. Drinking her down, licking her up._ He kissed her. "Don't the princess's tears save the prince in the story?"

"Only if you get blinded by my mom first." Buffy kissed him back, rubbing his hard biceps, smoothing over his pale, perfect back, feeling him wince. "Ohh! Sorry, baby!"

"I don't hurt." He quickly told a near truth. Lungs are blessed with relatively few nerve endings that perceive pain. One reason the buggering cancer gets so far along before anyone notices it. "I don't hurt, just a bit sore. Been a bit sore ever since you barreled into me in the cafeteria." He teased her.

"Hey! I didn't have Slayer strength then."

"I don't know about that. Klutz-strength has always been your super power, Buff." More laughter, more kissing, more nuzzling, more tears escaping.

"I don't want this to go away." Buffy confessed suddenly, in a heartbroken voice through all the tears she had been trying to keep at bay. "The part where we're happy, and we laugh and you tease me, and I tease you, and I- love you like my best friend and like my boyfriend."

"Shhh." He tried to soothe, but she wasn't done.

"No, no, listen. You're all I've had, in a really long time. Even when I- even when I thought I had someone else. When Giles drives me nuts, or Mom gets mad at me for being the bad daughter, or Angel was just- well Angel- I had you. I took you for granted and now I'm going to lose you and-"

He kissed her forcibly, almost roughly. When he pulled back he barely had enough air, so he hissed out his words in a half-gasp. "You will never lose me, Buffy Summers. I will always be your best friend, and the one who's there for you. When vamps are born, their memories stay. Things that make them who they were in life, that stays. Drusilla had her visions, she didn't loose them. Angel was a bastard, still is. Things about me? I'm still gonna want to be near you, wanna be with you. That's me. William and Buffy, that's us." He swallowed. "Spike an' Slayer. That'll be us, too."

"Baby, I believe you I'm just terrified because-"

"I'll change? I know I will." _And nothing is certain, even as certain as I am. _"If you gotta chain me up and teach me to play nice again, I won't mind." It earned him a sudden sob. He blushed. He could never tell her how much _this_ version of him wouldn't mind it either. Wouldn't mind anything she did to him, couldn't tell her how many things he'd love to try on her... "Just keep me. Don't give up on me. I don't need a sire. I need a... a partner."

"Always. _Always_."

"Follow me tonight. But far away." She didn't respond. "Baby- you're gonna see a dead man soon. Whether you watch me choke on my own air in some hospital bed or watch me walk into a dark alley, it's gonna happen." He held her tight, hoping her sobbing shudders could mask his own cowardly shaking. "You think I should go out hooked up to a machine, or with a little bit of action?"

"Don't go at all. Where's option C?" She wiped her cheek across his shoulder.

"It's die and get back up, unlivin' and ready for the next round."

_Oh God, oh God, oh God... _"I'll stay close enough to come get you if you need backup, if things get bad."

Will shook his head slowly. "You can't come get me this time."

"What?"

"It has to end badly this time. The bad ending- it's what we want."

Buffy swallowed convulsively twice before she could finally squeak out, "We have the most screwed up fairytale," before she started silently crying once more.

* * *

"Where's that from?" Buffy had never seen it before.

Late afternoon. There was a waiting in the house, like soon the clock would chime, the night would fall like a stage backdrop, and the scariest performance of their lives would start. Apparently, Will was dressed for the part.

"Giles gave it to me. It was supposed to be your eighteenth birthday gift, but he- well, you remember how you were bloody pissed at him, and so was I?"

"Oh, I remember." She said darkly.

Will slid into the coat. Heavy, black leather, almost too big, showing its age and, "Thoroughly badass." It came just to the tops of the scuffed, lace up Docs he wore, swung and draped every part of him in a ripple of blackness and strength.

"It totally is. Personality. Only- that was going to be _my _gift? Why do you have it?"

"Well, for one thing, Bertie finally noticed you're a shrimp." He smiled as she stuck out her tongue. "For another, he decided to give it to me then, when I turned 21, only..." Shrugging on both sides, pained, refusing to state that Will's 21st birthday would never arrive. "It's a Slayer's coat. Nikki Wood. He showed me a picture when we got back from London. Big, beautiful black girl from New York." He ran his hands over the sleeves. Wondered if he'd fill it out a bit more, after. Wondered if he'd always be a bit bony, and realized that he was glad he wasn't too far gone yet, in case he was stuck with this body forever.

"Still with the why?" Buffy caressed the sleeves at well.

"My grandfather was her Watcher, back in the early seventies, last of his active Slayers before he retired. When she died, he kept the coat to give to Rupert's first active slayer." Will smiled, recalling the conversation they'd had a few weeks ago, in some lull between London and LA. "He said I was never supposed to know about Watchers, Slayers, the family business. Mum didn't want that. Didn't want me to get an interest in it." He snickered to himself, hands skimming down the sides, realizing how much he already loved the feel of it, the weight of it, the attitude of it. "But you can raise me in a different city, hide everything from me, you can move me to a Hellmouth and try to keep me oblivious to the everything going on around me- and I still up best friends with a slayer, in love with her, fighting vamps, and hey, looks like I'll even join the fangs only club. It must be in the blood, baby."

"Fate helped you into a cool new wardrobe?" Buffy laughed.

"Figured if I'm gonna have to fight Drusilla, a master vamp, even if she's cracked, I could use the good luck."

"Didn't this slayer die?"

"Yeah. In this coat, actually." Will's face clouded briefly.

"And Drusilla's gonna turn you. Which is the plan. You shouldn't fight her."

"I have to. You know that. Not before, after."

They nodded without speaking.

_You have to kill the sire, or the sire has control._

_ He can't be loyal to her and to me at the same time. I've already been in that triangle and it sucks. Still. _

"That's not you though." Buffy whispered.

Will sighed. "I know. Usin' people for my own gain, then literally leavin' them in the dust..."

"Let me do that."

"That's not you, either. She's doin' us a huge favor, she's givin' me new life. I owe-" Will's voice died as Buffy's face took on a sudden stricken look, and she retreated a step,involuntarily. "That. Right there. That's why she's gotta go, Luv, no way around it." He strode to her, fingers clamping down on her forearms. "This thing where you let vamps go 'cause you know 'em- it didn't work out for Angel, did it? How many you think she's killed in a century while he lets her walk? Because he made her?"

"Thousands."

"If he felt so damn guilty about what he'd done, he oughta bloody well fix it." Will scowled, fire in his eye. "But no. He likes the guilt, the pain, the knowing he's still getting blood on his hands and he has to pay for it. Not me. Even if she's doin' me a favor, even is she's a- a person- to me. I'm not givin' her the chance to make me into what she wants, some replacement, and I'm not givin' her a free pass so I have to face the problem again next time we cross paths."

Buffy was awed, as always, when her best friend laid it on the line with his passionate orations. "Wow. You're really wise."

"Thank you."

"And you reeeeally hate Angel."

"Shows?"

"A lot."

"Oh fuck!" Will suddenly shouted, startling her. "I just realized- he's gonna be 'related' to me, isn't he?"

"You realized that before, didn't you?" Buffy tried to hide her amusement at the absolutely anguished expression.

"Maybe, but it must not have seemed as bad farther away from the actual deed." Will made a disgusted face. "Was he still doin' good and bein' on a mission of atonement for his sins through cryptic messages when you popped in on him?"

"Hard to tell with the lecturing and thinking I was throwing myself at him."

Will groaned against her forehead as they held onto each other. "Can I deck him when I'm stronger?"

"You already 'decked' him when he was Angelus." She smiled into his chest.

_Hurt my hand, too. _"That was evil him. I wanna break his self-righteous nose." Another pair of sighs. "Fine. Never mind him. He's in the good guy camp, and that's where I wanna stay, no matter what I am. A selfish, scared, hypocritical good guy, with fangs, with a dark side, but still a good guy."

"I don't think it's selfish to use something bad to make something good. I don't think it's hypocritical to save your life and end hers."

"Yeah, but I'm raggin' on Angel, and I'm really pretty damn grateful he didn't do the deed since I need her."

Buffy considered. "When someone can help you save a life, that's the best thing they can do. If she'd keep on doing it..." They both knew she wouldn't. She didn't long for change like her split personality sire, she seemed to be pretty happy being the resident loony bin darling of the vampire set. "Look, it's not like it's that we're giving her a free pass because of you. Whether she helped you, whether she didn't, we'd fight her anyway."

"Yeah. I know we would." _Maybe._ He slid past her with a quick kiss.

_Hard to kill someone who sees inside you- and doesn't mind what she sees. Who likes the dark stuff. Who really is so beautiful and who's been used so much... I'm using her again. I'm a bastard._

_ Well, at least I own up to it. _

"I'll find her. Finish her before you- wake up." Buffy followed him, wishing she could see the path he was taking in his faraway eyes, although also sure she'd be seeing something that would confuse her, pain her.

"No." Will said quickly. "I can do this. She doesn't have any free passes for you, Slayer. You're the one who hurt her precious Angelus, and she knows you're the one in my head." He remembered her nails across his face, across his eye, like she could blot Buffy from his sight. "Don't tangle with her tonight. I can do this."

"You're dressed for it." Buffy finally said. "I- I like it. It's definitely a different look."

Will turned quickly, a half-hopeful smile on his face. "You think it suits me?"

Buffy stared at him, booted toes to chiseled cheeks. Blue eyes sunken, blonde hair slicked back, all in black. All the hardness in him, now showing on the outside.

She recalled the few seconds she saw underneath the cheerful face of her best friend. The cruel snarls, the dark smirk, the hard eyes.

"It's perfect for Spike."

"I love you, baby." He came back to her, and she nodded, gripping his hand.

_I always come back to you..._

* * *

"You gotta minute? You can call me back if you're busy."

"Will?"

"Hey."

"Of course I have a moment!" Giles tried to cover his unmanly, thoroughly gushy exuberance with a cough. "Reduced summer hours at the university library, you know."

"I know."

H-how- how is Buffy?"

"Fantastic. She's something, Bertie." William's voice was suddenly warm and transparently joyful.

"I know she is." Giles's voice matched his, though more muted. He cradled the phone tightly between his ear and shoulder as he removed his glasses. "Ahem. Good, good. How are you?"

"I'm kickin'." _Kickin' the bucket, kickin' off, goin' out kickin' and screamin'... Alive and kickin', for another few hours anyway. _"You?"

"I'm- fine." _Worried. Sick with worry. In turmoil, why don't I go there, why don't I stay here, how can I stop it before it starts, how do I stop it once it happens?_ "Hrm. I called yesterday."

"Buff said, but I was kippin' and you said not to wake me."

"I called back a few hours later, but no one answered. That's fine. You need your rest." He said quickly.

"I'm all right enough." He said staunchly. There was a pause.

"Good."

"Yeah."

_How do we say what's coming next?_ "I hope to be home in a few days."

"You're coming home?" Giles eyebrows raised, then lowered, and his mouth turned to a grim line.

_I hope._ "Yes."

"I'll see you then." Giles murmured.

"Hope I'll still be welcome?"

"You, William, are forever welcome in my home. Anything else... well, I'll see about issuing you an invitation." Giles rubbed at his eyes and inhaled silently, marshalling himself. "Please don't make that necessary."

He licked his lips. Not doing this fatal thing was more tempting than he could ever tell anyone. "I don't know any other way out."

"Then sometimes you just have to stay in place."

William case a glance at the door of her room. Their room for now. buffy was downstairs, giving him privacy for this call, maybe his last one, and he didn't feel like letting her overhear this part of it. "I can't lose her. I can't, Rupert."

"You never lose a person when you love them." Giles pled. "Think about this, just once more,_ think_." He inhaled again, vainly trying to keep the polished voice steady. "There has never been a case of success, since the beginning of time. Why, _why_ do you think you can succeed, why do you want to put yourself, put her, put all of us, through this?"

"Because there's never been Buffy before." Will whispered. "Because you're right. I think you never lose them, dead or not. I won't lose her. Whoever, whatever I am, living, dead, or in between. I don't think she'll let me be lost, either."

Silence. "I'm supposed to say something now. Something like they say in the trenches, when one soldier is dying." Giles muttered distractedly.

"No-"

"Yes. You were- you were more than my nephew. You were Anna and Edward's son, and the person I loved most in this world. You were the reason I stopped messing about with dark things for good. I wanted to rid this world of evil, so you could grow up safe. Now- I've failed, haven't I?"

"Why's my dyin' all about you, Rupes?" Will asked with an edge in his voice, so tired of fighting all the guilt trips, answering all the questions, fighting all the explanations and emotions.

"Because when your heart is breaking, you find yourself feeling rather selfishly singular in your pain." Giles informed him coldly. "Maybe you never realized just how much you're loved." He paused. "Maybe I didn't tell you enough."

_Oh bloody hell._ Will closed his eyes and lay back on the pillow. "You did fine. An' if you pray and maybe offer up a little good luck spell, you can get back to tellin' me for a lot longer. Deal?"

What else was there to say? He answered thickly, "I'll assuredly hold up my end."

"Right then. Love you, Uncle Bertie. Goodnight."

"I love you. Good night, William." Giles hung the phone up softly. "Goodbye."

* * *

She worked quickly, blinking often, finding the frozen part inside herself she'd had too much practice using for only being eighteen. _This was a Slayer's coat. It has to have- ah ha._ She found a few thin, narrow tube like openings in the lining. She slid a stake from the pile of his belongings on the coffee table inside it, followed by a wallet in the pocket and without hesitation she took one of her senior photos from her dad's fridge and tucked it inside the breast pocket. She hesitated and then slipped his silver lighter and pack of menthols in as well. Lastly- _Where is it, I know I saw one- yes!_ A guitar pick.

"When you wake up- remember who you are." She kissed the collar softly and held it to herself.

"I don't know who you were, Nikki Wood, but if you're listening, this is the grandson of your Watcher. Slayer to Slayer, if you ever feel like doing a little back-watching yourself, tonight would be the night."

* * *

"Just one." He took one of the three spikes she offered on the stoop. "You take the other two. If you want 'em."

"No, I'll- I'll use what I usually use." Buffy twirled a stake.

"I'm not worried." He lied.

"You're lying."

"I know. I know, and I know you know." He kissed her and shouldered the heavy leather duster, which felt even heavier somehow. "But you're gonna be right behind me. An' she- she listens to me."

"You listen to her, too." Buffy's stomach curled into a ball of sharp protest. "I- I think anyone would love you, if they got to know you. Like I do. Like she does, I guess, with her ability to see in your head and stuff, but- I don't think she loves you like I do."

"I don't think that she does, either." Will took her hand and they walked with painful, dragging slowness into the nightfall. "You scared of me 'givin' in to temptation'?"

She considered. "Yes. but- I want you to do whatever you have to."

William was shocked. "I'm not gonna do... what happened last time was before you and I-"

Buffy winced. She didn't want to think about the past, or the present, just the future, the part where this was over and they were together again, not on borrowed time. "I said 'whatever you have to do'. Unless it's evil. Don't do anything evil, okay?"

"Scouts honor."

"Were you ever a scout?"

"No, but I saw 'em at school." He saluted with three fingers. She swatted him with five, soft and open palmed. "I'm not worried, 'cause you're behind me."

"She moves really fast." Buffy bit her lip.

"You move faster. Only one in the world who does." He paused. "But don't run that fast tonight. Gotta get taken, don't I?"

"What?"

"You don't think she'll sit all night and all day in some alley, do you? If she bites me an' leaves me, I'll be a body. Just a body. We don't want that. She has to take me with her, awake - or not."

She felt like she was going to hyperventilate, or dry heave. The words, "I don't think I can do this, I don't think I can watch this." desperately wanted to burst from her lips, so she bit them even harder and nodded. _At least tomorrow, this will be over. One way or the other. We didn't do anything special today. It was his last day as a human, we should have done something special!_ "I didn't do anything special." She gasped out suddenly, horrified look on her face.

He knew what she was speaking of. No marking of the occasion. "Don't have to." He replied with a cocky half-grin. "Today's just another day in the rest of the long, long time you an' I are gonna have together, Pet." He slid his arm across her back, and they leaned on each other as they walked to the car. "Tomorrow, we'll celebrate."

_I hope so._ "Okay." He put his car keys into her hand. "Hold onto those for me."

"But- you don't ever let me drive your car."

"Can't take it tonight, either. Too conspicuous." He didn't want to have a ready ride out of town, away from her. On the other hand, if he needed to escape a sire he couldn't kill... The prospect of a peaceful, final death beckoned. _Go on treatment, spin this out, another week or another month with Buffy. We'll make love, slow, steady, gentle. We'll see sunsets. We'll take long walks. Slow walks. We'll do one last- everything. One last set at the coffee house, one last all nighter at the Bronze, one last jam with Oz, one last picnic with all of us... _

_ No. I'm not ready for the last of anything._

"Keep it safe for me."

"I'm only holding onto it for a day." Buffy reminded him.

"Hey, that's one day longer than anyone else ever gets to!" He chucked his hip to hers. "You're the only one I trust enough to do this for me." Will added in a much different voice, solemn and soft.

The keys found their way into her hip pocket and she curled her hand around them as she pressed them in deep as possible. "I'll hold on."

Then, with one more kiss, and one silent, mutual nod, they let each other go.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time. _

_Author's Second Note: All due credit to the Foo Fighters and the references to the song _Everlong _used in this piece._

_Dedicated to Omslagspapper (cover design), AGriffinWriter, The Darkness Befalls, micmoc, Sirius120, Rosalea12, Ginar369, Illusera, TieDyeJackson, Jhiz, and jackiemack._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part VIII**

_Hello_

_I've waited here for you_

* * *

"Hello, William."

"Hello, Drusilla." He jumped inside, even outside, but the bulky coat hid it. Her voice came out of shadows, wrapped around him as his hand wrapped around the broken iron rail he used for support.

"Have you been waiting long?" She was in front of him suddenly, blue eyes wide and ethereal, smile small and knowing as her cool white hands reached for him.

He let her lead him, taking death by the hand. "Seems like forever."

* * *

_Everlong_

_Tonight_

_I throw myself into_

_And out of the red_

* * *

"You did come find me. I knew you would." She lead him through backstreets so twisted even the city that housed them was unaware of their existence.

"You're smart."

"Smarter than you know." She dropped them down suddenly, giggling wickedly, watching him crash to his knees and limp forward blindly, now in a new labyrinth, this time under the city. "I don't want you in the sun anymore, William. If you want to dance at my ball, you mustn't leave at midnight. You'll turn into something so much better than a pumpkin if you stay with the princess."

His heart raced. Key word,_ turn_. "I know."

The dancing voice, the leading figure slammed to a halt, and slammed into him, forcing him back against the gritty underground wall. "I know she's following you. I know she's waiting for you. I know she's the one who planted my garden of pretty black spikes."

Well, what was the point of lying? "She is. Was."

"You want to go back and see her?" He nodded immediately, through a lump in his throat, and she gave a sudden low chuckle of burning delight. "You shall have your wish, my Spike. She'll be the very first human face you see," the burning chuckle suddenly matched her eyes, jaguar golden and twice as predatory, "when you wake. Before you come back to me."

* * *

_Out of her head she sang_

_Come down_

_And waste away with me_

_Down with me_

* * *

"I'm not hurting her." Will held her hand as they slipped through tunnels, dipping down, then trudging up, like some hike through a fun house.

"You won't. My sweet William. So good, so kind, so... sweet." She licked his jaw and then kissed it. "But Spike. Oooh, he's the wicked one. Bad dog." She growled and snicked her teeth shut just shy of his vein.

"Just one person, aren't I? You are."

"Sometimes we're special, my kind._ Our_ kind." She giggled and spoke around a finger pressed to her lips, whispering a secret. "Sometimes we take a new name. Demons have their own names, you know."

"I didn't." He swallowed, head reeling in excitement, and feelings of dread. This wasn't how it should go, should it? It wasn't supposed to be round and round like this, leaving him feeling confused. The whole thing was so bloody confusing, shouldn't this part be more simple? Drain, turn, rise? "Are you Drusilla? Were you always?"

Drusilla paused, blinking, giggles and secrets suddenly gone. "He kept me in too much pain. He wanted me to stay the same- so the pain would stay." Her nails pierced her own palms, and spots of red began to drip, tiny scarlet tears down her white frock.

Will reached out hesitantly, and took her hands. He lifted them slowly, looking into her eyes. "I won't let him hurt you anymore." Lips pressed the back of her dainty wrist, then he hesitantly rotated her hand. Palm up. Tongue out. "First taste?" His tongue dragged across the scored skin.

"Is always the sweetest." Drusilla shuddered in ecstasy and took the other hand and pressed it to his cheek before her own tongue darted out and licked the trail away.

"Not bad." He whispered in her ear, curling one hand through her raven waves. Strangely thrilling. Bad. Wicked.

Powerful.

_Drinking down what makes you alive... The drink death can stick, the drink I'll live on..._

"It gets better, the more you take." Drusilla leaned away from him.

"Then take mine. All of mine." He offered boldly.

"In such a hurry to die, Sweet William?"

"No. Hurry to live."

She kissed his cheek and clasped her hands together gleefully. "My beautiful boy, about to be born."

They'd arrived at some crumbling brick ceiling, or rather, someone's basement floor. She pulled an overhead hatch, and fine red dust drifted down.

"What are we doing?" Will looked confused.

"Come into my parlor." She swished inside, ahead of him.

The fly, already caught, followed the beautiful spider.

* * *

_Slow how_

_You wanted it to be_

_I'm over my head_

_Out of her head she sang_

* * *

Buffy was ready to scream. She'd lost him. Almost immediately after they'd met, two figures in the distance, one leading the other away as she bit her lip to keep from screaming for him not to go. They dropped off the radar, out of sight, nowhere to be seen, and she couldn't even tell when or where it happened. Too many tiny alleys, too much time wasted trying not to be seen by Drusilla, from wherever Ms. Crazy 1800 was lurking.

_Oh no. No, no, no, he trusted me, Oh God, he trusted me, why did he trust me? _Buffy started to run, back tracking, mentally taking stock of every alley and dead end, fire escape and doorway. _ I'm a screw up, he knows that I'm a screw up, how stupid can you be to put your life in my hands and - oh yeah. That's why. _

Five hundred routes she had to check as fast as she could.

_But she took him. That's what has to happen._

_ I _think_ she took him, I saw them leave. She had to have taken him, otherwise wouldn't he be here? Somewhere?_

_ God, where is he?_

* * *

He was in a house that smelled of disrepair and dust, faded sofas with ugly floral drapes. "Why here?"

"Angelus liked his women kept in style." She moved forward through the dark house, and he followed unsteadily behind her, heart moving from stomach to throat, lungs laboring. At the end of the ground floor hall, she turned a key in a door and opened it, to reveal something out of a vintage dream.

Bed in satins and laces, jewels and trinkets on dressing and end tables, and in direct opposition, cobwebs and dust around the mirror, hanging on lamps and curtains. "I was his creation. He kept me in a pretty box." Drusilla ran her hand over the bed. "Pretty box and pretty frocks, like all the dollies."

Will shook his head. "What do the trimmings matter if he hurt you so much? You're not his anymore, why's it matter if you keep the 'pretty box'?"

Drusilla looked at him wonderingly. "That's how the game is played, Spike." Her accented voice was chiding and plaintive all at once. "When you're a vampire, pain is your pleasure, and your pleasures are others' pains."

"I -"

"You take what you want." She abruptly pushed his shoulders down, so he fell back onto the edge of the bed. "You enjoy looking at it. You play with it until you're tired of it. There's always a new dolly."

"Is there?" William swallowed bravely. "Then why d'you still hang around Angel? Not his dolly anymore, are you? Why you still stuck on him?"

She tilted her head as if studying a particularly foolish child. "My pain is his pleasure. And his is mine. I stay near him, because he loves to see old ghosts, and I love to watch him writhe. Don't you listen?" Her red talons tugged his ear dangerously hard. "Should these come off and I get you some new ones?"

"Ah, no, I heard." Will gently disengaged her hand. "I'm just tryin' to understand, Luv." He confronted her with a question that plagued him. "If you still want him so much, why do you need me?"

"I don't. _You_ need me, now." Drusilla slid her hands under his collar and ran her hands possessively over his back. "I'm doing this for you."

"An' I'm grateful." He breathed out, swallowing hard lumps of nerves constricting his windpipe. "I guess I just wanna know why you're doin' it for me."

She leaned close to his cheek, spoke against his skin, sharing a secret. "You're going to make me happy. I'm going to make you happy." The vampire pulled back and studied him. "Because you're not, are you?"

William paused, unsure of how to answer. "Not right now." He finally agreed.

"Not in such a long, long time. Ever since mummy died?"

"How-"

"I can read your pain. It says you watched. I watched too, my mummy die. It took hours." She shuddered suddenly.

"Took months." Will growled.

"And you sat, powerless. You try to reason with words, and sing with songs, but you know..." She leaned to the ears she doubted and whispered, "that you did _nothing._"

"Did everything I could!" Fire snapped in his eye.

"Which was as good as nothing at all." Her hand stroked his face, his neck, finding the scar she'd given him months ago. "So angry... so hungry. Hungry for power. You want to get the upper hand on death."

"It owes me. Took a lot from me. Not gonna take me as well." He growled and caught her hand, pressing it into the scar she played with. "Not unless I can get back up and kick its teeth in."

"Mmm, impatient Spike." She grinned wickedly. "I like it. I like it all." Her hands ran down him possessively. "Such a sad tune in your music box." She hummed something high and fluting, yet mournful. "But I can still sing to it."

Unsure how to reply, he finally gently ran a quivering fingertip over her perfectly pale cheek, where smiles often showed, but never seemed real. "Sad yourself."

"He stole my songbird, wrung its neck." From plaintive to vicious in three seconds, William watched her face and tone change. Then, as if turning a page, her face changed once more, calm and pleasant. "They tried to steal your music, too." Fingers over his heart. "Thump, thump. The bass drum is slowing down, soon the band won't march."

_Stops beating._ He nodded.

"You've been sad so long. Sad and drifting around the shadows, even though you walk in the daylight, you feel like it can't reach you. You wonder if you belong to us. In the dark. In the grave."

"Maybe." Hadn't he wondered for years? About death, about after, about how it could kill and kill what you loved, and leave you, lonely, miserable, impotent in spite of all your fury. But something changed.

Buffy.

The rage suddenly swelled. To find her, only to find yourself suddenly caught in death's snare? To rip happiness away before you full tasted it? He let out a low growl in his chest.

"Yes... yes, that's my Spike." Drusilla encouraged and coaxed. "The tiger's already inside, you just need the teeth." Her own briefly emerged, then disappeared. "I'll share, my lamb. Turn you from the plaything into the master."

"Master..." Master of his own fate, for once, in what seemed like a long, bullying existence. "I like it."

"Just need the cure." She stroked his hair back, stroked his cheeks, moving closer, an intimate embrace becoming suddenly much more intimate. "I'm your cure..."

"Yes. Yes, cure it." His eyes closed nostrils flared in sudden ecstasy.

"Mm, my lovely boy. Soon we'll have it just the way we want, and then we'll wait."

William's eyes opened. "Wait? What we want?" Was there something he was missing? What they wanted was surely not the same thing.

"So much love we have. Never given back." A sad smiled graced her lips. "Haven't you loved her? Forever?"

William's mouth opened to answer, then hung there, ajar. _Loved Buffy forever?_

_ Maybe. _

A million moments with her. Sad, angry, happy, wonderful, terrible- all the best of his life. Felt like he'd found everything he needed and wanted when he found her, and yet- it hadn't been everything between them. "Yes."

"She hasn't loved you back."

It stung. Unexpectedly. "She does."

"She hasn't always. She saw your love waiting, and she chose another." Drusilla sneered. "My flower to pick."

"Timin' wasn't right. We're young. Young an' stupid." He defended himself and his love.

"No, no, no. Old soul inside you. Waiting to be free. It wants to die, and you want to live, live forever. Love forever. Both of us, love forever, as we were meant to love." Her lips suddenly danced across his, then rested on his ear, speaking with dark intensity. "Love is blood. It's taking until it hurts, it's breaking them, breaking you, consuming you and loving the flames. Love chokes you-" Her fingers grasped his throat, "and marks you." His scar split open under her nail. "Love doesn't leave, even if you bleed it and beat it and tell it to go. Love will hunt, watch, and wait, and -" she released him, sitting back, "and wait."

William felt each of her desperate words strike resounding chords inside him, and he grasped them eagerly. "Yes. Yes, exactly. Burns you and you don't mind. You do- wait, I mean." He thought of Buffy, waiting for him, looking for him, and him waiting for her. Both of them in different time streams in the same place, and finally they'd connected, only for him to be tugged away, towards eternity while she was stuck here. No. No, they had to wait, even if it took forever, to find each other again. He would be master of his forever.

"We wait for them to reach us." He whispered. "Even if it seems too long, and that they should've been with you from the beginning.

Drusilla nodded. "Good girl. Waiting for daddy to come back."

_Oh. Oh, the poor thing. Murderin' evil thing, but still able to love thing._ "Dru...I hate to tell you, but I don't think he's coming back." _Different with Buffy. Angel's a mess of soul and demon, but as long as the soul wins out, he can't go back with her, not with blind eyes..._

Drusilla shook her head stubbornly. "He will. He never really leaves, you know." She giggled again. "But it could be years. Decades." She pouted in turn. "So lonely. He doesn't love me anymore."

This comment struck him, making hims peak slowly, thoughtfully. "Vampires can love, can't they?" All her language, made sense, sounded like she got it, knew love. But everything Angel had told Buffy about not being able to experience love without a soul faintly nagged in the back of his mind.

She nodded immediately. "Oh, we can indeed. In our way." She looked past him, then towards the covered window, an expression of such aching on her face that he again reached out and cupped her cheek. "He _never _loved me. I don't suppose he ever will. I still wait. I still love him. So I wait."

"I'm sorry, Dru."

"Don't fret, Sweet William." Drusilla inched closer to him. "If it's all you've ever known-"

"Shouldn't be all you've known." He hated Angel then, even more than he already did. For turning her, for keeping her tied to him for years without loving her, and for having no intention of ending her heartbreak, for not even believing it was real, based on what he'd told Buffy about vampires minus souls.

"Maybe you'll teach me something new?" Drusilla began to run her nails across his chest, down to his belt, and watched him draw back.

"We did that before." Will said with a tense shrug. "You didn't like when Buffy was on my mind. You won't like it now either, because she still is."

Drusilla seemed to consider. "When you wake up, sweet prince. Then you'll finish with her, and we'll begin together. Waiting for you. Waiting for me. When you wake, the waiting's done."

Lying to her felt wrong. Saying "I plan to kill you if Buffy hasn't arrived and done it for me" was likely to get him killed in the non returnable manner. "I'll do my best to end the wait. Stop the pain. I... I don't like to see you hurtin', princess." It was true.

"I know you don't. It's why I found you and you found me. We're waiting to be born, or to die, so that somehow, the pain all melts away. Like toffee in the fire." She held his face, he lifted his chin towards her, and they kissed once.

"You still taste of sunshine."

"And you - you're all dark now. Inky dark, and you need a touch of brightness." He kissed her again, feeling light headed.

"Not a touch. Sharp. A stab." She pressed her palm to his groin and felt the reaction with a smile. "A spike."

"Me. Need me."

"Need me. Ring-a-ring-a roses..." Her hands moved in circles now, across his body, across his face, until his head lolled and rolled, lost in her hypnotic gaze and lulling touch. "A game we play of hide and seek and turn and peek, never knowing who takes the last turn and wins the prize..."

"Only one way to find out." _Here it comes. Here I go..._

"Take our turn together?" He nodded. She slowly changed her face, to something ridged and cat-eyed. "Let me take out all the death inside you, Spike."

"Please..."

"Give you one of my own." She kissed him softly, and then struck with a sting that left him gasping, holding onto her.

* * *

Life flashes as it drains. He felt his fingers going numb around the frail shoulders and his body began to shut down. He gasped. She held him tighter and moved her hips down against his.

Mum.

School.

An ocean, a trip to a gravestone, so many gravestones...

Faded photo of a handsome man his mother loved, that he never could remember, only now he thought he heard his father's laugh, his mother's laugh, remembered once upon a time there'd been a happy family.

Willow.

Oz.

Rupert.

Mum.

Bertie.

Buffy.

Buffy. Buffy. Buffy.

That image didn't flash. It stayed steady but flickering, like one tiny burst of candle flame as the rest of the world went dark and cold.

Something pressed to his blue lips. Warm and red, soft and sweet, smelling of lustrous black manes and perfumed lace.

"Have a drink, there's a good Spike."

_It's just like falling asleep. Just like falling..._

He swallowed as he watched the face in the flame flicker to blackness.

* * *

_And I wonder_

_When I sing along with you_

_If everything could ever be this real forever_

* * *

Darkness gave way slowly to something red and gold and black. Fiery figures and shapes that blurred and blended, beautiful in their anger and power.

Dreams weren't dreams. They were real, and they were sweet in a different way. No more gentle sweetness, no. Sweetness meant the sting and the rush, and weakness escaping.

The sweetness didn't have a name, didn't have a voice, but he still felt like it was speaking to him- and oddly enough he felt like it _was_ him. Yet he was able to answer it. Something niggled that this wasn't quite right.

_Stop fighting and enjoy it. You can already feel how good we are together._

_ Who's fighting? This is bloody brilliant!_

_ You're in good hands. Strong hands. Hands that'll make them pay, hands that will bring you everything you ever wanted._

_ Too right they will._

The glowing surged, faded, and returned to the outline he was getting quickly used to.

_Why are you fighting?_

_ I'm not!_

_ You have to leave._

_ If I leave, how'm I supposed to enjoy the power, you idiot?_

There was pain now.

_Shouldn't be pain now. _

_ Do you want to live?_

_ Yes._

_ Then leave. I'll keep this body alive._

_ What happens if I don't?_

More pain. Terrible pain.

_That happens._

He couldn't scream aloud. He was the scream. He was pain itself.

Then respite.

_Go._

_ No._ Stubbornness didn't die, or at least it hadn't left yet.

Frustration. _Then burn. No soul survives the fire._

_ Yeah? How long can you keep this up?_

_ I'm inside. I will rise. This body will rise, I have been born, no power on this earth or in the next expels me once I merge._

_ Well... I don't seem to be goin' anywhere. Burn away. Wish I had a smoke. _ Pain so much stronger than the others seared him, swallowed him. He tried to run from it, but there was no space. _How do I leave, if there's no door?_

_ Not a door. Light._ Pain stopped long enough for him to see past blazes and into something calm and white, beautifully soothing. _There you go._ The demon urged him. _ Go into the light. It's peaceful. Beautiful. All your dreams come true. No pain, no sorrow. Your dreams come true..._

Hesitation. _Is she there?_

_ Who?_

_ Buffy._

_ Of course._

Longer hesitation. _Not the dreams. The _real _one. Is she really there? I'm done with dreamin' of her. I want the real one. Is she _really there_?_

_ Not yet... but I'll send her along as soon as I can. I promise. _

_ Like hell you will._ William felt something wake up. Things seemed sharper, though still indistinct. _Not gonna budge. I've been waitin' too long for this damn date, an' I'm gonna have it._

_ Bloody hell._

_ You sound like me._

_ I am you._

_ Ha. Then you can't really tell me to go, or hurt me too much, can you? Since I'm you. _

_ One of us wins._

_ Then it'll be me._

_ It never has been before._

_ There was never me before._

_ You'll give in. You'll fail._

_ No. No. ... Already failed too much in life. Not gonna fail in death. I know about vamps. I know somethin' anyway. I know at night fall, you'll yank this body back to walkin' and talkin'. Figure all I have to do is stand the pain for a day. Not even twenty four hours. _Laughter, scoffing, seemed to pour from him, echo in this limbo. _I've been in pain for years. Do it. Do your worst. _

_ I'm._

_ Not._

_ Running._

_ What sort of human are you?_

Was I_, you mean. Well, mate, guess you'll just have to find out. Like I said, I'm not goin' anywhere._

* * *

This wasn't really happening. Daylight came up and found her sweating out tears and returning back to the same starting point for the hundredth time.

_This can't be happening! _

_ This isn't the plan, this isn't the plan, this isn't the plan!_ Fists started echoing the screams in her head, and she pounded dents into an alley dumpster.

"Shut up!" A voice shouted from above.

"Sorry!" Buffy looked up, startled, and then sank back against the wall, fists bloody, hair a stringy mess. "So sorry. So sorry, Will." She let herself have thirty seconds to collect herself, to scrub off her tears and lick her dehydrated lips. Thirty seconds, no more.

_Apologizing time is done. I'm not giving up. I will find him. _

Back to the last place she had a visual on him, and start again, down a different alley, turning a different way than the time before.

She was going to find him by dark. She had all day.

"I've always been good with a due date." She lied to herself, then recollected, "No. Will was always the one who made it happen on time. I need him." She started running again. _Gotta go find him._

* * *

Drusilla hummed as she scooped him, light as a feather to her demonic strength. She carried him like a sleeping child, smiling with an unholy satisfaction at her handiwork.

"It should be outside, but Mr. Sun is up, with his nasty rays." She purred as she laid him down in the basement. She clucked over him as she wrapped him in a white sheet, winding it over his feet, neatly folding and winding again, until she reached his face. She paused and bent to kiss his lips as she finished the final fold. "See you soon, my darling boy. Sweet dreams, Spike." She covered his face and patted the wrap into place.

Soon the only sound in the basement was the chink of a shovel hitting the crumbling bricks on the earthen floor, and her strangely upbeat humming.

* * *

She found the tunnel entrance by accident, or by fate finally showing mercy. She was bleary eyed and exhausted when her foot caught the grate and she realized it wasn't embedded in the asphalt, but actually had been recently pried up.

Buffy lifted it and dropped down with a wince. _All right. Down the rabbit hole after the crazy ones. Not really that surprised. _

She stepped forward, tripped, and landed in something she hoped was just stagnant water. "Really should have brought a flashlight..."

Buffy walked painfully along in the dark, her superhuman eyes providing some guidance, but not nearly "illuminating". "I get the best girlfriend in the world award after this. If I don't get the worst one for losing him in the first place. Maybe that cancels each other out." She talked to keep the claustrophobic feeling away, trying to pretend the tunnel wasn't slowly closing in on her, and that she was walking away from the only exit she knew of. "That's okay. That's fine. Not greatest girlfriend, not worst." She curled her hands around the keys in her pocket. His keys. "Just still let me have a boyfriend when I find him." She whispered.

* * *

_Hello_

_I've waited here for you_

_Everlong_

* * *

She could feel the darkness hitting her through layers of concrete and city street. Hours of walking, literally from nightfall to nightfall. Nothing to show for it. In the dark she felt like she'd missed some clue, but maybe there were none. No footprints to see after this long.

She'd missed the tiny spatter of brick dust several miles and multiple dead ends and retraces back. She tortured herself that she could have walked past signs of a struggle, splashes of his blood, and never known it.

She couldn't take it anymore. Who knew where she could have gone? Where would Drusilla have taken him?

"Angel. He might know her well enough by now."

_But then he'll interfere. _

"Giles. Giles will know because he has all those books and she's in them and he reads. But then I'll have to admit I lost William and I-"

"Found him."

Buffy shrieked. An actual girly shriek she was used to scoffing at as she saved some helpless idiot who couldn't tell a dead pick up in a club from an actual human. She whirled and found herself looking into a gruesome, mad grin and flaming eyes.

"It's all games. First it was tag, then hide and seek. Now it's the hunt."

"Drusilla. Where is he?" Buffy took a step back.

"Sleeping. Not ready to wake."

"Wake..." Buffy knew she was supposed to stake the vampire, kill the vampire, be scared, be angry, but instead all she could say was, "Thank you."

Drusilla's face lost its demonic guise and revealed a surprised woman. "Thanking me?"

"You saved his life. I mean, in the long run." _And now I have to end yours_. Her fingers curled around a stake in her waistband. "So thank-"

"I haven't saved it. I've traded it for yours." Drusilla smiled. "He'll take yours. He'll be the finest of demons, my Spike. Nursed on Slayer blood, his first feed the rarest and finest. Just like him."

"Agree with you about the rare and fine part." Buffy flipped her stake from back to palm and crouched to strike.

"Oh, no no." Drusilla hit her with something she'd been holding behind her back. In the split second before it bashed Buffy in the temple, she recognized it as the spike Will had been carrying, or at least one they'd used.

The world burst into crimson and skin split. Buffy landed on her side, trying to get up, but wondering why her head felt so large and heavy that she couldn't raise it.

"Heard you scuttling under us, so many times today, little rat in the walls. Going to wake him early." The clucking tone turned to a hiss. "I should kill you now." There was a pause, and Buffy tensed for a death blow that never came. The more modulated tone was back, "But I won't. I'm a good mummy. I won't deprive him of a first glorious hunt." Buffy watched in horror as the spike was raised above Drusilla's head as she stood over her, about to be plunged through her, and then it slowly lowered. "Not much of a game if I leave you pinned to the ground to find." She reached down and ran a finger through the sticky red mess that was now Buffy's hair, blood soaking into it from the head wound. "Plus, you're quite fragile when your organs still work, aren't you?"

"I'm going... to find him." Buffy feebly pushed herself up, only to fall immediately back.

"Where's the fun in that?" Drusilla demanded, shaking her head. "You'll spoil his birthday, you don't want that?"

"July. Born in July." Buffy slurred.

"_Reborn_ in August." Drusilla swung the iron rail again, and Buffy saw stars before the already dark world turned completely black. "Stay here. Stay alive- at least a little." Drusilla patted her hair again, and then licked her finger. "Mmm. Worth the trouble. And he'll share. He's such a good boy. Such a good, wicked, evil, boy."

Buffy shook her head, but it only sped up the darkness as it swallowed her. She mouthed something, but neither demon nor slayer could really tell what.

"You think I won't let him? Because you're a 'Slayer'? Slayers are nothing compared to a demon who has to taste what he's been hungering for- and that's you. Only now it'll be your blood. Your rubies. Always wanted your rubies..." A vague, dreamy voice that seemed farther and farther away as unconsciousness won the battle. "Don't worry. I'll give him your scent. He'll find you soon. I know what it's like when he keeps you waiting."

* * *

_Tonight_

_I throw myself into_

_And out of the red_

* * *

Burning was fading. How long had he stopped really feeling or thinking or saying anything and just been screaming?

And suddenly- the pain was dying.

_Leave._

_ N-no._ He couldn't be panting, but yet he was, exhaustion and battering taking its toll.

_You'll regret this, human._

_ We'll see, demon_.

_You won't see for long. You've resisted for longer than most, but soon you pay the price._

_ What price?_

_ Humans can't handle it. Demons get their due. Then your soul'll run, screaming, more shattered than you already are. You'll see... Last chance._

_ Not takin' it._

_ Fool._

_ Stupid, some say, but it works for me._

It was like lightning flashed in a single spot, straight through him, and at once there was no more human, no more demon.

The time had passed, the moon had reached its place of calling, and the demon rose to answer.

A soul split, a demon halved. Neither demon nor human was in possession, but as William woke he lost all feeling of separation between two entities. There was no more echoing, limbo-based arguing. There was just one single voice, one single thought. He didn't even recognize it at first, but then he realized it had been in him all along.

A roar, reverberating, tearing from his chest, "Yeeesss!" A cry of triumph, power, and hunger for more- and it stopped short.

Will's eyes flew open as his hands, meant to be thrust up in victory, stopped short. "Yeeeess- What the bloody...?"

_Where the hell am I? Why can't I move? Why is it dark?_

He wanted to hyperventilate. His throat still made the shadow motions, but he realized- _I'm not breathing! Not breathing, not breathing- wait, I don't need to breathe._

_ I don't need to breathe. I don't need my lungs to work._

A chuckle, low and slick, "I don't need 'em anymore! Ha! Take that, you fuckin' tumor."

_Now I just have to get out of here_.

_I'm buried_. _Why am I buried? Who buried me? Why would I get buried, only Drusilla was around and she knew I would be gettin' back up. Unless Buffy- _

Thoughts about Buffy went wrong. Tangled, blurred, blackened, as he tore at his cotton bindings, spit out dirt, and roared again while he punched and clawed his way from a shallow grave.

* * *

Buffy was cloudy. She woke up in pitch black, head throbbing, and something gumming her eyelid closed.

"Oh goody. Blood."

_That's right. A trail of blood. My scent. For Will. For Will to find me. _

She staggered up and forward, steadying herself against the tunnel wall. There were two options. She could try to navigate her way to him and given that she'd been unsuccessful for God knew how many hours, hope she finally got lucky, find him, fight him off without hurting him, kill Drusilla, and hope he was still himself.

Or she could try to get back to the surface, leaving her trail of really gross perfume, and let him find her, and be relatively safe from Drusilla- and him- in her own house. She could pull Will inside, but keep her out. Could she shoot her from a distance with one of the crossbows? What if Will got in the way?

_What if he eats someone on the way over? Drusilla would find out where my dad lives! What if it all goes wrong, and she comes over in a couple weeks when he's back, gets herself invited in and-_

Her brain juddered to a halt.

_This has gone wrong._ All completely wrong, and it was all her fault for losing sight of him in the first place.

_We did something stupid. Now we're screwed. So many times we've been screwed, but at least we were together._ She cried suddenly, unable to hold in the helpless feeling anymore, but at least tears unmatted her eyelashes and she could see better.

_We'll be together again. _

_ One way or the other. _

She dug in her pocket. She'd lost her stake, but there was still- yep, there it was, a small, silver knife. She pricked open a spot on her fingertip, then considered and cut a deeper gash that bled quickly and easily. It didn't even hurt. Nothing hurt in comparison.

"Your turn. Come find me."

* * *

_Out of her head she sang_

_Come down_

_And waste away with me_

* * *

He broke the final layer of earth, gasping, bleeding, panicked, and looked around wild eyed,.

Then wide eyed.

The world had been a plain piece of rock before, and now it was cut crystal. Everything was a thousand times sharper, details leapt out, night color sparkled, blackness was really only shades of other colors hiding. It was intoxicating. To suddenly know he had the ability to see what others couldn't. To smell what others couldn't. He inhaled and grinned a throughly debauched, wicked smirk.

Drusilla's scent. Had to be. Like a dark fruit that dripped sweet juice. "Dru?"

There was a giggle from above. "Princess'll be right there, Spike. I wouldn't miss it for all the world."

"Miss what?" He murmured, and turned slowly, shaking himself off, brushing himself down. He noticed his hands- dead white now. Now more blue traces, no more tingling but-he clasped them, _Hmm._ _Cold? Am I cold, or can't I tell?_

_Does it even matter? I'm going to get something hot soon._

His face shifted, and he felt it, pleased. Hungry. Hungry for something thick and sweet. "Dru! Get down here, or I'll come up!" His shout surprised him for only a second.

"Ooh. Aren't we commanding?" She laughed lightly and one little satin-slippered- foot appeared on the top of the basement stairs.

"Yeah. Aren't we?" He laughed back and went to meet her.

Drusilla glanced at him for a moment. "Mmm. You're a beautiful tiger, Spike. Even your stripes..." She drifted down to him, wiping his dirt streaked face.

"And my roar." He snarled and gripped her wrist, dragging her down the last step, into his arms, against his chest.

"And your body. I like this one so much better. So much... harder." Her hands were across his chest, then his waist, until- not quite what she'd expected. "You'd better eat first. It's a potent aphrodisiac. I want to bathe in her blood. Paint pictures with it."

Spike backed up, just barely. Her touch on his groin had sent a warning signal, and he had the urge to ignore it. The reference to eating made his fangs ache, and he licked them. Sharp. All over sharp, inside his mouth, and across his chest. He was knife edges, all jagged and ready to rip her apart.

He kissed her hard, bit her lip until it broke under the weight of gnashing teeth, and tasted ambrosia.

"Bloody hell." He whispered, almost reverently.

"Just think- this is leftovers. Cold. I've taken all the life from it. You, when you take her, sink your teeth into her- squish, splash- all those sweet juicy berries bursting in your mouth." Dru's eyelids fluttered in anticipation, and she danced herself a few steps away, twirling in her delight, waltzing with him. "You want that, don't you? For her to burst?"

He blinked and his face reverted.

_ Buffy_.

_Buffy to burst in my mouth. Yes. Yes, I want that. _

_ But not like she means. _

"Oh, don't look so sad, Sweet Spike. I know you've got all his lovely memories. You'll always have them. But now-" her fingers snapped an inch from his eyes, and he flinched, "see through his eyes. See through my dark spectacles." Her voice was mystifying, lulling. "Everything's different in the dark. When the sun is gone- you think about all she did. And said. Realizing..."

Spike realized indeed.

He'd loved her from the beginning. She'd chosen someone else.

He'd been desperate for her. She'd run.

He'd risked his life for her, time and again, and she used him.

Used him, pushed him away, hurt him unintentionally, mocking him in her "friendship", when all it really was was a way to have him near her, but keep him from owning her.

_I should own her. I should have her. And take her. _

_ I should... love her. _

_She loved me from the beginning. I pushed her away._

_ She was desperate for me. I wouldn't take a risk._

_ She risked her life for me, time and again, and I just expected it. _

_ Used her, pushed her away, hurt her, a billion bloody stupid things we put each other through, and we never, ever stopped lovin' each other._

"I don't feel too good." Spike put his head in his palm abruptly, and slipped away from her, sinking onto the bottom stair.

"It's the hunger pains, my duckling. You'll find they go away, the nasty ones, after the first feed. Now, I've got a special game for you. I've hidden your supper somewhere below, and all you have to do is-"

"Just a minute." Spike snarled.

Drusilla snarled back, marching to him, gripping his chin. "Mind your mouth. Or mummy'll sew it shut."

He shoved her hand away and stood. "You're _not_ my mother!"

Drusilla's anger vanished as suddenly as it had come, replaced by puzzlement. Vampires didn't talk like that about their mothers. Didn't speak like that to their sires, not newly fledged. She clapped her hands as she stared at him. "Aren't you even more rare than I thought? Oooh, this is good. A feisty tiger, lashing his tail. Daddy will be ever so angry with what I've made."

"Angel?" Demon, human, or some odd combination of both, Spike spat the word.

Drusilla ignored the disgust in his tone, too busy waltzing again, this time with an invisible partner. "Yes. Angelus." She crooned adoringly.

Spike's hands curled into fists and clutched the leather at his sides. Something crinkled. He could hear it now, with his uncanny senses.

"Angelus will be ever so cross. I like when he's cross."

His hand slipped discreetly down, watching his mad sire lay her head to an imaginary shoulder, eyes closing wistfully. "Yeah? Why?" A photo.

_Buffy. Beautiful face. Beautiful girl. My girl. _Dark thoughts prickled. _Oh yes. Make her mine._

"It's not love."

"What?" Spike shoved it hastily down again, but she wasn't referring to his picture.

"It's not love for me, at least. But he loves taking what someone else wants. It's enough to get his attention."

"Me, y'mean?" Hands wandered again. Lighter. His silver lighter. And... this coat felt funny now. All odd and bulging in the wrong places.

She continued. "Always hated that you had his sunshine's heart." She tsked, then smiled at him as she turned. "Then all of her. Tonight you'll have all of her- her life inside your veins. You'll finish her, and he'll hate that the most."

Spike licked his lips. Hunger was something he'd never truly experienced until that second. The hunger for blood at all was consuming, but hunger for hers- oh, he just knew it would be the most exquisite thing in the world, and to have her life- something inside a meshed mind considered that it wouldn't be so bad to do to her. For her. When he had steadfastly reassured all parties involved "I won't hurt her", he hadn't realized how much of a threat he'd be, even without any violent wish behind it.

There was a little of that violence, too.

"I-"

"When he finds I've chosen you, and you are mine- he'll take me away from you. He doesn't share, naughty daddy, unless it's on his terms. Unless it has no value. I'm most valuable when I'm not 'his'. He likes when I come running. He likes it even better when he has to drag me."

Spike's reveries regarding Buffy and her delectability stopped. "Wait. Take you from me?" Something in him, now part of him, gave into a possessive, angry heat. "You said we'd find all the love we'd been missin', you an' I."

"Oh and we will!" Drusilla turned and rushed to him, some flighty yet comforting wisp in white. She stroked his hair, brushed some dirt from it, and kissed him deep and quick.

"But- that's not loving you. That's just not wanting anyone else to have you." He protested, eyes narrowing. Drusilla looked troubled, then stubborn.

"Don't argue with your sire."

"Don't lie to me. _Everyone lies to me_." He grabbed her arm and twisted her back to him as she prepared to dart away, back on her macabre waltz.

"Hush. That's William talking. Demons like lies."

"Then maybe I'm not really a demon, because I fuckin' hate it." Slitted eyes turned yellow without his control. Anger brought out something in him, but he didn't mind.

She wrenched her arm from him, and struck him on the chest, knocking him on his tailbone before he could brace himself. "You're not properly done." She hissed, looking at him like a broken toy, disappointment in her eyes.

"I'm not a goose to cook, Luv."

"Oh, Spike, don't be angry." She fell across his lap, pouting amorously. "You just don't see it yet. You're still using your old eyes, and your new ones are so much more beautiful." Her own face ridged. "You think I'm beautiful?"

He had to admit he did. He nodded slowly. "But you said-"

Her hands slid under the lapels of his coat, slowly prying it off his shoulders, a sensuous gesture, unveiling her creation. "I meant it. It's all in how you look at it, Spike." The lily white hands slid into his sleeves, and down, coat puddling at his wrists as she leaned him back steeply. "I know Angelus and you don't."

"I know him better than you think, Dru, and what you want from him isn't what you'll get."

"I don't care."

"But you need love. You said- everything you said..." She was pressing against him now, too close, too wet, too hot, he could smell desire, something he didn't even know had a scent. His arms slid from under him, and he was on his back, this beautiful night goddess atop him, making a bed of his coat.

"That's why I have you. You'll give me all the love, my sweet Spike. That's why I chose you. It's in you, it's in you to love, even if it hurts. You have the glow in you, the poet's fire- you like a bit of burn." Her hands pinned his out to the sides, spread like some defiled crucifix, and she left a hungry trail of kisses across his throat.

_Poet's fire. Like the burn. Picked me because I'd love her, even if it hurt me. No. No, no, she was supposed to make it better._ His fists curled, his fingers deliberately turning from hers, into the lining of his coat. Fingers hit something hard. Long and thin and- he felt down- long and thin and pointy. He remembered what kind of love he wanted. Who made it better.

"You expect me to chase after you when you want him? When you love him? 'Cause poor Spike won't mind gettin' his heart broken?" _Heart broken when I have a woman waiting for me who loves me back? _ Blue eyes smoked up at her as he found a sudden burst of energy to sit up.

She slid down him, clinging like a wilting vine. "Oh, no. I'll love you too, Spike." She traced his cheekbones with a smile. "Two favorite dollies to play with. The Angel beast comes and goes, steals my Daddy, and I'll be lonely again."

"No. Love- love isn't toys. Love isn't havin' a 'spare'. Love is _one_ person _ownin'_ your heart."

She looked genuinely sad for a moment. She laid her head wearily to his, eyes closing. She looked so piteously lovely that his fingers hesitated in their work below. "Maybe it's supposed to be that way, Spike. But I was taught the other way, a century of the other way, Darla and Angelus showing me how to 'love'. Only Darla didn't love me either... She didn't love anyone. He didn't love anyone, but they loved wanting each other, taking each other, having ...Tossing me scraps. Drusilla's had enough." Eyes flared open, voice shook, and she tossed her hair back in proud defiance. "It's _my_ turn to take and want and have and revel in everyone else's pain while someone loves me and waits for... while I love him. Then maybe it won't hurt so badly."

Spike looked at her wonderingly. She was something, really. But something wrong, even in a world of wrong he now found himself in. "It still won't feel good." He whispered.

She dismissed him with an almost flippant shake of her head. That was her mistake, and he watched her make it, jaw tightening. Too many people had dismissed him, too quickly. "Poor William, that's him talking. He'll be properly dead soon, no matter. Demons learn that there's only pain. Pain is pleasurable." She suddenly raked her claws down his jaw, slowly, breaking skin, until she his the edge of his collar, pulling it down, gouging four small indentations in his skin, making him hiss- and oddly enough his body jerk forward, towards hers. "Feels strange doesn't it, but it's part of the game."

"I don't want this game." He had the tool to free himself from it, under his palm.

"You're too late. In it now." She sang, a chuckle under her song.

"No... No. Not your game. Not this. I want it to be all good." His fist gripped the stake. "What's the point of the power if you suffer?"

She mocked him with a scoffing shake of her head. "Haven't you learned?

We are suffering. Other people's. Our own. Nothing is all good."

Spike rose, moving towards her, two figures so passionate, suddenly opposed. "But it can be better than this. It's better than settling, and playing games to get little tastes of what you want."

"How can you know, Spike? You're so new to all of this." Her arms curled pleadingly around his neck, head shaking pityingly as her pale lips pouted a mere inch from his.

He felt a shudder ripple through his spine, something broke free. "Because I had it. I was about to have it. _Finally._ And no one's taking it away from me. No one, not even you, my beautiful, black angel, will snuff out my sun with your wings."

He jabbed it in, and held her against him, swallowing hard as the frail figure seemed to sift slowly through his fingers.

"No." She had time to gasp. "Why-"

"Said I didn't like to see you in pain, Princess. Couldn't watch myself be a part of it, forever."

Wide blue eyes, suddenly cognizant, and then gone.

He sat down heavily, in the dust he'd made, the dust that was her, so alive just a moment ago.

Death may get cheated, human life may get spared, but the demon still gets his due.

Shoulders stiffened and squared as his head bowed and the demon roiled inside. He waited for it to overtake him, this demonic power that wouldn't feel any sorrow, that loved pain and suffering, that would leave him a slavering beast, hungering for fresh throats.

He waited for a long time before he realized it wasn't coming.

He waited only a second after that before he felt he could risk finding Buffy. _Someone out there, waiting for me to be okay. _

_ Am I okay? _He saw in the blackness easily, creaking up the stairs, walking across the broken, aged flooring, pausing at the door, hand on the knob, looking into the cracked mirror beside it.

Fear and triumph crested in him as the question was asked again, out loud this time. "Am I okay? I'm not even _here_."

_No_. His fingers touched the mirror. Nothing in there. Everything's still in here. His hand laid across the heart that was stilled. _More than everything, more than there ever was before. _

_ I'm okay. Dangerous but... okay. _

_ She needs to me to be okay. She believes in me. I believe in her._

_ I hope we're right._

* * *

_To be continued..._


	9. Chapter 9

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time. _

_Author's Second Note: Smuttiness. Vampiric smuttiness. _

_Author__'__s __Third Note: All due credit to the Foo Fighters and the references to the song _Everlong _used in this piece and Blue Oyster Cult's _Burning for You.

_Dedicated to Omslagspapper (cover design), AGriffinWriter, The Darkness Befalls, micmoc, Sirius120, Rosalea12, Ginar369, Illusera, TieDyeJackson, Jhiz, . , Mars, Breezybiatch, Kitakana, .792, and Rihannon. Thank you all SO MUCH. The reviews offer me so much encouragement and are much appreciated._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part ****IX**

_Hello_

_I've waited here for you_

_Everlong_

She waited at home. First in the dark, then with lights ablaze so he'd know she was there. She showered and washed the blood from her hair, hands, and face, and shivered as she hurried into fresh clothes. She checked the stock of blood they'd bought in preparation.

She checked her stakes as well.

Her hand went to the phone a hundred times, and each time slowly found its way away from it. She wanted to call Giles, but dreaded it even more. "What would I tell him?" She whispered to the empty house. "That we're 'waiting'? I don't even _know _if it's him. I don't know if... I don't know if Drusilla will let him live if he's 'himself'."

After about forty minutes of pacing and praying, she had just about determined that waiting would kill her, and she had to go back out, no matter how irrational and dangerous it was.

She looked at the clock for the millionth time. How had an hour or two stretched into two centuries? "I can't do this anymore!" She muttered angrily to herself and started for her coat, ready to pull it on and march into the humid August night where a light rain had begun to fall.

Buffy flicked off the lights in the living room and pushed on sleeve on over her trembling arm when she heard the sound.

Faint. A creak. Someone hesitating. A knob turning.

"Oh God." Acid in her stomach boiled and nerves nearly deserted her. Nearly as pale as her beloved must be, she dropped the coat and raced through the dark room to the front door.

* * *

His boots fell with heavy, slow steps. The walk here had been torture of the senses. Every evil instinct he'd ever had as a human was magnified like the scents and sights he was now privy to.

The ripest torment- her scent. It was everywhere. Leading up the block, and then a few hundred yards away he could smell something else.

Blood. Slayer blood.

Buffy blood.

Her blood on the ground, a droplet trail the rain hadn't managed to erase yet.

The dangerous urges were going to kill him.

If they didn't kill her first.

So he walked slowly. So his hand rested on the knob and only turned it part way. So when she was suddenly before him, yanking the door open with a half-sob, half-gasp, he yelled, "Buffy, wait!"

* * *

She heard the words. They made no sense. She'd been waiting all night, all day, and another night, the longest, most painful hours of her life, and she thought she knew all of pain's tricks by now.

She ignored the words, stupidly, foolishly, as she always had been for him. "No," Buffy cried, shaking her head and bursting from the doorway, throwing herself into his arms.

* * *

_Tonight_

_I throw myself into_

_And out of the red_

_Out of her head she sang_

* * *

He was barreled over- but didn't fall. Strength, flexibility, and balance unlike he'd ever known came as easily as thinking, thinking that he'd like to grab her and swing her around and knock her to the floor and- he growled and kissed her like he would swallow all her air, and re-inflate his cold lungs.

She kissed back, equally unmindful, with equal reckless longing, suppressing a squeal when he grabbed her up in a greedy grope, pressing them together as they swayed backwards off the porch, into the house.

Spike stopped kissing her abruptly, a sudden twinge like a stomach cramp taking his mind off of her for one moment. He released her and stood, hand to his midriff, pained expression marring his face.

"Will? Spike?" Buffy rested her hand on his arm, unsure what to call him, unsure what was happening.

"Both. Either." He winced.

"Are you okay? Do you need to- hey. How are you..." Buffy looked around the hall they were standing in. She blinked in confusion, so much was confusing, overwhelming, and she went with the most immediately concerning issue. William standing in her house, as a vampire- without an invitation. So something was wrong. Or was this a sign of something right? "Aren't you... I mean, did she? Or didn't she -"

"I'm a vampire." He confirmed, nodding, eyes closing in pain. "Feels like my gut twisted all the-"

"You came in the house. You can't do that. Vampires can't come in unless they're invited."

"Then invite me me already, it bloody hurts!" Spike snapped.

"But you came in. You're _already _in! Vampires literally can't come in- they_ can__'__t._ They would run into the air like a painted tunnel on the side of a mountain like in Road Runner cartoons."

"Buffy!" He groaned.

"I invite you!" Buffy blurted, and caught him as he staggered forward. He leaned on her heavily, and she clasped him tight._ Oh, Will_. _What _are_ you? What did you become?_

"I won. Sorta." Spike whispered into her shoulder, straightening up slowly. "There's- there's just me now. But it's not_ just _me. There's demon in here. There's vamp in here. I am a vampire. But I'm not… I'm still me. Maybe I still have a soul?"

"That doesn't matter. Even Angel couldn't come in without a- aah!" Her explanation died off with a sharp gasp as she watched a new face emerge, vicious and feral, with glaring, glowing eyes.

"Bastard!"

"Will!"

"No. No, this is all Spike. Spike is the one who wants to shove a rail through him and watch him writhe." The voice dripped bloodlust, pure cruel enjoyment of the prospect. "Things he's done. Things he's done to you, to her... She's out of her pain now, out of his reach, the monster who plays at being an 'Angel'."

Taken completely aback, and for a moment genuinely afraid, Buffy took a minute to find her voice, small and stiff, "No. I think that was William, too. I just don't think he ever told me because he knew it would hurt me."

"Maybe I'm not so cautious. Maybe I'm more dangerous." His face and tone were cold, eyes slitting. He found he could retract his fangs with an effort, forcing himself to be calm, to uncurl the anger in him.

"You're still you. You're still you, the real you. You didn't need an invite- you already had one. William was always welcome in my home, and always will be."

"But the demon-y side gets a bit of bellyache when he's not properly asked." His voice and face were relaxing now, rolling his shoulders, seeming to "sink" into his own skin and feel calmer.

"It's still something." Buffy risked coming closer again. "Maybe you're just- um. Did you eat?"

"Not yet." The words sounded far more ominous than he would have liked.

She swallowed. "Maybe you're just hungry?"

"Oh, I'm ravenous. Ever since I woke up. Just had plenty of distractions. Business to attend to." He reached into his pocket and she tensed slightly. He handed her Mr. Pointy with a half-smile. "Thanks for that."

"I- thought you might need some luck. A reminder."

"I had both." He gave her a grateful, if world-weary, smile.

"Drusilla?"

"Was a beautifully tragic, completely barkin', evil mess. An' she's gone now. An' she didn't give me more than a kiss goodnight and a kiss goodbye, Luv."

"No?" Buffy barely managed to keep the relief from her voice. "Actually, when she found me in the tunnel, I kinda wanted to kiss her too. Not in a - well, not like _that_. Like in a 'So happy I could kiss you' way. But also I wanted to kill her so... Yeah. Didn't work. She would be a seriously scary golfer." Buffy rubbed her temple, Slayer-healing starting to mend it already, lifting the hair to show him the split welt the iron rail had made.

He felt anger and sorrow and hunger all jumbled up together, and there was no filter anymore. Humans have filters. Vampires have to remember how to use them. In Will's case, all he did was snarl, and shimmer into fangs and back.

"I'm sorry?" Buffy asked in confusion as his growl split the night.

"Hungry. Angry. Angry at her. Angry at you. Angry at everyone. The killin' part of bein' a vamp seems like a bloody good idea." He growled low in his chest, but the rumbling stopped when he looked at her stricken face. "Don't look at me like that." He hissed.

"What did I do?" Buffy whispered. This was Will, but it was like Will's poems and music had been translated into a living- _sort of_ living- being. This was a dark, intense grenade of emotions and all the uncomfortably honest thoughts he wrote and sang. All that stuff she found perplexing. But intriguing.

"You knew."

"What?"

"You knew I loved you. You _knew _it." William moved towards her slowly, head half down, eyes up, like a black cat stalking a songbird in tall grass. "You picked someone else."

"I-"

"I never did. I had two hours with someone while I was thinkin' of _you_. My heart was_ yours_."

"William. My heart- was always yours, too." Buffy stopped the sinister advance by simply walking into it. "But when you're seventeen and a superfreak, you think you can't be in love your best friend because- because maybe you'll lose him if things go wrong, and you _can__'__t_ lose him. I can't. Lose you."

Her scent beguiled him and her words soothed him. "I should have told you sooner."

"We've had this conversation a hundred times." Buffy nuzzled the crown of her head into the underside of his jaw.

"Yeah... but I never told you I was pissed at you."

"You could have."

"That would've hurt you." He swallowed. Fresh blood right under his nostrils, he shuddered and gripped her back, keeping her there.

"You don't care about hurting me when you're- this way?" She felt the fingers tighten. Not just Will's strong ones, Spike's pure iron grasp.

"No... No, I still care. Sometimes I just don't ... stop myself." _I__'__m not afraid of myself, even though I think I should be..._

_Come down_

_And waste away with me_

_Down with me_

"I can stop you. I can help you." She broke his grip easily, but didn't move away from him. "I won't let you be anything you don't want to be. As long as you're still the guy I love, that's all that matters to me." She swallowed, barely able to ask the next terrifying question, "Is that enough for you?"

He nodded against her, holding her more gently. "Can I still have you like this?"

"Have me?" Hot liquid in her center, chills over the rest of her. Possessive words, taking, having, words that were baser and more primal.

"Love you. I can still love you. Never stopped. When I'm livin', when I was dyin', when I was in between dyin' and wakin' up, I held on because I couldn't stop loving you. Now I'm-"

"Still in love with me?"

"More." _They don__'__t make words for this feeling. It__'__s more than love. It__'__s engulfing. It__'__s consuming. Maybe this is what demons speak, why Drusilla said pain and pleasure are so tangled. _

"Good. I love you, too. Spike. Will." She took his hand, saw it was scraped and scuffed, and kissed it as she pulled him through the dark living room up the stairs.

* * *

_Slow how_

_You wanted it to be_

_I'm over my head_

_Out of her head she sang_

* * *

"You're sure?" _ Please be sure. I don__'__t think I can stop if I start. I don__'__t want to tell her that I can__'__t stop. I could stop for her. _Only_ for her. _

"Positive."

_And I wonder_

_When I sing along with you_

_If everything could ever feel this real forever_

_If anything could ever be this good again_

* * *

"How'd you find me?" She gasped between kisses, hands marveling in his body, raking, holding him, touching him, unable to believe he was still here, still hers.

"Should ask you the same." His kisses were turning to nips, he'd bruise the skin, then break it, so he tried to contain himself, and found it hurt to slow down, physically hurt. He felt as if he were lashing around inside himself, trying to break free, a starving animal inches from a feast.

"I never did. Drusilla found me. She said I was underneath you. I finally found the entrance to the tunnel."

"Came up a tunnel earlier." He confirmed.

"I left you a trail to the house. She said you'd get my scent. Did it work?"

Spike pulled back from her for a moment to smirk into her eyes. "Trail of blood through the tunnel?"

"Yeah." Buffy tilted her head quizzically as he smirked briefly. "Why the grinning?"

"I walked, you idiot. I know your dad's address, I've been livin' here for a week."

"Oh." Buffy blushed. "Right. So I just risked nasty-seweritis for nothing." She held up her cut finger.

He wrapped his hand around hers, then drew her injured digit to his lips. "I wouldn't say for nothing."

Buffy watched his face change, turn demonic, then somehow blissfully so, as a fang pierced her skin and he suckled.

_He__'__s drinking your blood. Your boyfriend is eating you. Well, part of you. _

_ You should stop him. There__'__s blood in the fridge downstairs. _ "Spike?" Buffy choked out hesitantly.

He looked up, a blend of sweet guilt and satisfaction on his face. "Thank you, Baby." His lips kissed her palm, then her wrist, stopping there to lay his head to her side and listen to the pulse of blood under satin skin. "Beautiful girl. Sound as beautiful as you look. Now I can hear it." His fingers glided over her wonderingly.

Her warnings died in her throat. "Are you good?"

"More like middle." He confessed.

"I meant, are you- you can't be full."

"No." Eyes burned for a moment, even through the blue. The flicker faded, "Did it hurt?"

"No." She watched him lick his lips and move his hips hungrily towards her as they stood together, saying in her bedroom, at the side of her bed. "Not at all."

He watched her nod in slow motion, milliseconds seeming like minutes as she processed what he'd said. She didn't speak, just that steady nod. He watched her swallow, could hear her swallowing as her head made one last, long steady bob before she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled, leading him to herself.

_The only thing I'll ever ask of you_

_You gotta promise not to stop when I say when_

* * *

_Breathe out_

_So I can breathe you in_

* * *

Clothes came off in the unlit room. They didn't need light. Two beings built for night, they could see everything.

"Will..." Buffy mewled faintly as they mounted the bed, a tangle of limbs and rushing gestures.

"It won't hurt. I won't hurt you. I swear it." He vowed it and he meant it.

"I know, I know that, just- whoa-" Buffy lost her balance and her words, crashing under him like a tidal wave washing over her.

"Always wanted you. Should have said it, said how I wanted it... but think I like it better like this, can taste you a million times sweeter, see every detail of you a hundred times brighter, even in the dark." His hands skimmed down her bare skin, over her rear, under her thighs, parting them.

"Slow down." Buffy whispered. "This is still our first time."

"Oh precious." Spike shook his head at her, forehead to forehead. "Wish is was."

"Our first time_ together._" Buffy blushed. _Did that sweet, innocent part of my Will die? Is this just sex because it feels good sex? I can__'__t believe that._ "Unless that doesn't matter anymore."

Spike rolled to his side, resting his hand on her midriff. "It matters. Buffy, I want to get my first time back, wanted it to be with you, and wanted yours to end better." He closed his eyes. "But I can't. An' when I'm with you, I don't even care about all that bad rubbish. I just want you. Want it to be sweet, Baby, but I don't want it to be slow."

She nodded, but tensed. "Have I mentioned my terminal lack of experience?"

"Have I mentioned mine?"

"We'll be fine."

"Vamps and slayers make the best lovers." He decided.

She wrenched up under a sudden onslaught of kisses, reveling in his cool, demanding touch, and how much he clung to her, showed her his absolute need without trying to hide anything. "Willow was right." Buffy gasped when his finger parted her.

"Hm?"

"I do like them cold." She gasped out her confession and bucked her almost-virgin hips up and down, riding his wrist.

He gloried in the wet heat, imagined himself buried in it until hip bones collided and couldn't take or give another inch more. "Think I was meant to be cold." He slowly withdrew and then pushed a second finger in to join the first, watching her widen and arch. "It always felt wrong. Human. Vamp. Had both. Didn't really care for either. Think it has to feel hotter. Want the intensity. I was meant to cool you off." His lips left soft kisses from navel to thigh, and then worked in between. "Put out that fire." He suddenly stiffened his limbs above hers and pressed down hard, lips against her pulse. "You were meant to burn me."

She wailed in pleasure as he tried to find her inner flames.

_Hold you in_

_And now_

_I know you've always been_

_Out of your head_

_Out of my head I sang_

* * *

"Ready?"

"So ready."

A push, a slick rush, and he lodged in her paradise.

"Yes!" Cries in perfect unison, hers relieved, his triumphant, and rapidly smothered in kisses.

_We did it!_

_ We made it._ "God, you feel so good."

"You, too." Buffy wrapped her arms around his smooth shoulders and dug her hands in. "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and find out I dreamed this. That you're not here."

"I'm here. Can't you feel it?" He rutted in her unevenly but solidly "Make you feel it..."

"Yes, yes, Will, love to feel you!" Buffy's eyes rolled back, and her spine arched up, hips moving restlessly. Her gasps of pleasure turned sharp.

He could hear the changes. Breathing seemed to come out higher, blood pumping sped and changed course, rushing to the lower regions. I can hear it. I can feel everything in her, everything I do to her. "This is how I wanted it." He whispered.

Buffy opened her eyes and focused hazily on him. "Us?"

"Yes. No. You. Wanted _you_. Always wanted you. Should have said it, said how I wanted it... I want it to be about what you are too, Luv., what you want. I just don't want to hold it in anymore, want to tell it like it is. Angel tried to rule you. I just wanna own you, and I wanna be owned. William and Buffy, Spike and Slayer, the way it ought to be. Every inch of you is mine, every inch of me, yours." He concluded with a biting kiss, hands tangling possessively in her hair, clinging to her with so much passion she felt like she was literally swept away.

Overwhelmed, lost in feelings and his words. "People don't go around talking like that, saying things like that, owning each other and-"

"I'm not people anymore. Neither are you." He could sense her mouth opening, even as his head was buried in her shoulder. "No. You aren't just human, Slayer. I loved you when you changed. You love me too." It wasn't a question or a demand, a simple statement.

One she knew was true. "Of course I do."

"Maybe it's hard to love me like this." His head lifted, fingers touched her cheek, her eyes that had shed thousands of tears for him.

"It's not hard at all. It's... so easy it scares me."

"I scare you?"

"No." She shook her head. "I just think maybe I should be afraid. I... I never felt this. I never... it wasn't like this before."

"With him?"

"With him, or with you. I thought I knew the inside of your head so well." She kissed the brow above her as it bent.

William struggled. Vampires don't seem to think just in words, there was part of him that now seemed to communicate in actions and emotions. Everything primal and instinctual. "It's new to me, too." He whispered finally.

"Harder?"

"No. Better, if I'm honest."

"You're always honest with me."

His hips began to move again, lifting her body with his easily. He cradled her lower back effortlessly with one strong arm, and supported himself easily with the other. "I think I like it better like this. Strong for you."

"You were always strong for me."

"Strong _as_ you. Almost." He kissed her gently, then his roving tongue took over, greedily parting her, leaving trails of desire down her chin and to her breasts. "I can taste you a million times sweeter, see every detail of you a hundred times brighter, even in the dark." He tried to explain it to her as the outsider, when he barely understood it himself. "Being a vampire just means everything you wanted to say on the inside, comes up on the outside. Everything. Every feeling. Bloody hell, it's something rich. I know it's a bad thing to be- but it feels like it's what I was meant to be." _If only you can love the monster in the man._

"Then I like this better, too." She whispered, and pulled him back to the mattress, side to side now. "I like anything with you. Just... we both have to get used to it. The main thing is that we don't have to get used to being apart."

"God, Buffy, no. No, we don't." He exclaimed prayerfully, eyes closing as he shuddered at the thought of the narrow escape he'd had.

_Hoped_ he'd had.

* * *

_And I wonder_

_When I sing along with you_

_If everything could ever feel this real forever_

_If anything could ever be this good again_

For a few minutes, it was perfect. Blissful. Side by side, bathed in gray shadows in the unlit room, they studied with eyes and hands and mouths. Lovers finally reunited, lovers finally together for the first time, all at once.

"So perfect." He marveled at her, hands caressing her shoulders, breasts, hips, calves.

"Exactly." Her hands lost their shyness, over shoulders, down each line of muscle on his chest,until she hit the ridges of his pelvis, and he made a noise, a cross between a snarl and whimper. A needy sound. Her hand wrapped around him, and his over top of hers, pressing her fingers in tight. "This hard?" She whispered.

"Harder than you'd think." He confessed, and felt like he was reaching his peak right at that moment, when her hand started to slide up and down, locking firmly over every inch.

_She likes it, too. Likes knowing I__'__m enjoyin__' __it._ Spike realized it when he could smell a change in scent. Sweet, womanly scent that was drifting to him in rushes now instead of trickles. The most beguiling, desirable scent. "Slayer's ready for me." He whispered, half sitting up.

"What?" Buffy blushed slightly as his hand came to rest on her upper thigh, fingers pressing between legs.

"I can tell. When you're close." His hand stopped hers, and he slunk down the sheets.

"Will." She suppressed the gulping sound she wanted to make.

"Spike. Will. We both - I mean _I_, I can tell you're ripe for it, Luv. Let me give you something. I want to taste it. I want you to have it."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." His head rested on her thigh. "Just a taste..."

Buffy's eyes rolled back on first contact. His tongue was some sort of serpentine instrument, across her, inside her, lapping and sucking, until she came almost at once, and then again in another minute. Her screams of pleasure covered throaty chuckles of his own.

"The ultimate satisfaction. Making you scream my name." He lapped between her legs and then paused to give her a debauched grin. She'd called both, too. Spike, William, mixed together, interchangeably. "I think we're gonna be brilliant together." He said with much less cockiness and more tender conviction. "I can still make you feel good, Luv. You're not hurtin' are you?" He asked to reassure himself more than to check on her.

Buffy let a hand trail down to her soaked pussy, feeling much hotter, wetter, and open than it ever had before. "I'm so far from pain. It's like pain would live on another planet and I would just read about it in school or something."

He caught her dangling hand and slipped two of her fingers in herself, working them in and out, overcoming the second's resistance in her wrist. "Think I could come back in again?" He teasingly offered.

"Duh." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Want you to be ready first."

"Of course I'm ready, after what you just did."

"I like watching you, Beautiful." He encouraged. Her cheeks glowed, and he smiled with a shrug. "Maybe it woulda taken me six months to tell you before I changed." He cupped her knuckles and slid up the bed, other arm around her as he spooned her, her fingers under his now working in a steady rhythm. "Bother you that I'm so 'open'?"

She shook her head. "I'm still not there yet, that's all. Shyness factor- even with you." Her head tipped back to rest on his shoulder as she gently pushed her hand from her hot tunnel. He kept possession of it, quickly brining it up to his mouth and sucking the juice from her fingers. "Wow." Buffy's heart fluttered at the erotic dance of his tongue on her fingertips, and also at how much he seemed to crave her.

"I could save us a lot of time right now by just sayin'," he paused between hungry licks, "that nothin' is gonna be off limits to me, not with you, not in bed. Except sharin'. I'll break anyone's face who tries to move in on you."

"Are you gonna be a jealous jerk?" Buffy asked worriedly.

He considered. "No. Only if the bugger tries to make an actual move. Then I'm gonna bust his nose."

She laughed softly. "I'm okay with that. Can I roundhouse any girl who gives you her number?"

He laughed as well. "Only if I can watch."

Laughing, kissing, rolling again, this time with her on top. He pulled her hips easily onto his, impaling her, engulfing him. He groaned and pounded into her. The urge to release was getting to the point where he couldn't control it anymore, and there was only one urge stronger.

Listening to her blood pounding in the arteries around her juicy center was tormenting him. He suddenly had no idea how he'd staved off feeding for this long.

Buffy gasped as his face shifted, twin night lights suddenly bursting to life where blue eyes had been. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Can my new face be on in bed, or is that off?"

"It's fine." Buffy answered quickly, trying to believe it. She hesitated, then reached for the bedside lamp. "Can I-"

"Do it with the lights on? Yes, please. Even if darkness is as good as daytime now, I like the light as well. Different details come out. An' I wanna see every single detail you have, Buffy."

The lights clicked on. William looked at the flushed, sweaty, golden girl on him. Watched her eyes studying him. His new features. He felt a sudden apprehension. She may love me like this, but doesn't mean she'll love the new look.

She loved Angel in his game face. She told me how she didn't even notice the difference. He looked at her worriedly, saw her hands hesitate above his shoulders, then move slowly to his cheek. "Well?" He asked hoarsely.

"Still have the killer cheekbones." She whispered. "Close your eyes?"

He obeyed, wondering if the yellow stare would ever please her as much as the blue one. The demonic instincts tried to say that it didn't matter what the hell she liked, while he argued within himself that he'd hate for her to have to"get used to it", even though rationally he knew that would be normal.

"Smile."

He smiled easily. So much to smile about. _The worst is over._He gave her a close lipped beam.

"Still handsome. I like it. I never... with Angel I didn't mind the game face. You must wear yours better." Buffy gently traced ridges across the forehead and down the nose. His lips parted in relief, and she stroked his smile. "Handsome. You can open your eyes again, Spike."

He did, to find her gazing at him with a look of pure, unconcealed love. His heart managed to throb, even though it was still. "Glad you like it, Beautiful."

"I do." Buffy licked her lips. "Actually- just because it's you I can tell you, but- um-"

"What is it, Pet?" His hand fondled her cheek as she stroked his.

"It's..." She seemed to search for words, but they wouldn't come.

Her body told secrets now. He could feel it. The chasm he was in getting tighter, slicker, making involuntary squeezes, her cheeks turning darker, even through her already aroused skin. "You _really_ like it." His eyes widened. "Not just tolerate it." He laughed once, but then quieted himself when she looked guilty. "Oh, Buffy, no, don't look like that!"

"I don't like vampire faces, okay? I mean, they're ugly and creepy, no offense, and they usually equal death and fighting for me. But you... maybe it's because you're still so handsome, maybe because I can still your human face through it, I don't know. I like it. A lot." _It__'__s powerful. Dangerous. Bad. I have a thing for bad boys. For this bad boy. No, I have a thing for good guys with bad boy faces and really big coats. And now- oh God_- he surged into her, pulling her down to kiss her blushes away- _really big other things._

"It's all those things, and maybe it's the slayer side, baby. Maybe you like knowing your sworn enemy is yours to command. That he loves you. That you have one of us, if only one of us, you're safe around."

"All those things. Plus- that growling sound is realllly hot when you do it in bed."

He growled playfully, just for her.

"We're going to have a really good sex life." Buffy gasped.

"When I'm in my new face, y'mean?"

"No, I meant- oh Spike... Will..."

"Harder, baby, I can take it. I can take it..." He matched her thrusts, spearing inside her, speeding up. Pleasuring suddenly became competitive, two of the fastest beings in the world trying to rub each other the right way to cause an explosion.

"Wiiiilll!" She wailed and fell back, shaking, waiting to feel him join her in the strongest orgasm she'd ever had.

He didn't. He roared and tore a jagged fistful of her sheets. "That's my girl. My girl." He helped her back up, cradling her, kissing her all over.

"Good sex life." She panted, hugging him back, "Because we cut through the first six months of being afraid to tell each other stuff. Mostly. You know I like you in either face, I know you like-"

"Everything else. Unless it hurts you. I don't wanna hurt you." _Move. Move away from her, so you don__'__t hurt her. _

"You won't." Buffy reached for his member, still rigid and definitely thicker than it had been before. "Is there some trick I'm missing to make you- finish?"

_Well. If we__'__re bein__' __honest- _"I'm afraid to, yet."

"Huh? Why? Baby, I swear, you've _more_ than given us a memorable first time." _Like nothing I ever pictured. Everything I could want. Warmth, love, crazy good, passion, laughing, kissing, the crazy good part is high up on the list. And he didn__'__t change. He was already a monster in a man, but he was always mine._ "I love you. I loved it. It doesn't have to end, or anything."

"I'm worried that the only thing keepin' my mind off eatin' is not cummin'." Will confessed. "I want you so bad, Buffy."

"Well, you have me, silly!"

"No. I mean 'want you'." He moved restlessly, then dove on top of her, back in her, hips pistoning once again, a distraction.

Buffy guessed she'd known that all along. Hints, tastes, honesty, all there to show her the truth.

_I scared her. I froze her._ "Buffy? Slayer, say somethin'. Say no. I'm not- I'm not gonna hurt you." He forced himself to give the permission for denial, demon clawing him inside, hunger making something wet and sticky seem to fill his fangs. She remained unblinking, almost dazed, under him. It scared him, and fear made him react with new power, new anger. "Tell me to stop, dammit!"

Her eyes focused. "No."

_The only thing I'll ever ask of you_

_You gotta promise not to stop when I say when_

"Why?"

"I remember what you said. About how to keep the demon from taking over. You have to keep it fed. But don't let it take a life. You won't take mine."

"That's right." He knew it, like a person knows how to blink, how to breathe in. "Never let it kill." He knew something else. It's a hard urge to control. It doesn't seem bad. It seems natural. Needful. With her, it seemed like the ultimate ownership, ultimate gift- to never have to worry about her withering, dying and not returning. A simple fix, all in his fangs. "It's something hard to control. Maybe 'cause I'm new to it." He whispered, eyes burning hers, pace more rampant, fangs twitching under the surface of straight even teeth.

It would be risky to let him, crazy to give it to him... There's blood in the fridge. Listen to him. Tell him it's time to take a break, get something to eat, then come back.

Only words in another woman's voice kept creeping around her head, blotting out her own common sense, merging with it. _Nursed on Slayer blood, his first feed the rarest and finest. Just like him._

"Did she tell you anything about my blood?"

"What?" In the midst of trying to beat the hunger pains out with pleasure, he was caught totally off guard.

"Drusilla. Did she say my blood was special?"

"Yes."

"I know Slayer blood is."

"I don't want you for that. I want _you,_ 'cause I- 'cause I can taste you already. So sweet, and hot, everything in the world pales compared to how you taste." The memory of a drop from her finger made his groin tighten, cold juice dripping inside her, making her squirm.

"She said it would nurse you." _Like back to health? Or like babies? Baby vampires, oh geez no, bad thoughts. Buffy focus!_

"It makes you stronger. Bigger. Invincible. Unstoppable. An aphrodisiac." He recalled her hints, from multiple conversations.

"I want you like that." She held him suddenly tighter. "I never want to go through this again."

"Buffy, vamps can't get cancer." He calmed her. "They can't get anything."

"I don't care!" She insisted stubbornly. "I want you to be stronger. The strongest."

Strongest demon. Strongest vamp. Hard to die this way. Too hard to kill... I don't want her to kill me anyway. What if she has to? I won't let it be that way. "Stupid thing to do, Luv. Make me stronger? You don't know what you're gonna get, do you?"

She frowned up at him. "Do you still love me?"

He nodded emphatically, instantly.

"Are you still my William?" Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

"I'll never stop bein' that."

"Then I know what I'm getting. Getting you."

"Getting _you_." He traced the back of his knuckles to the soft swell of her breast, over and up to her jugular.

"You said you wanted me. Take me. Just not too much."

"All of you." He breathed against her ear. "But not enough to hurt you. Never, ever hurt you..."

_Breathe out_

_So I can breathe you in_

Their love making changed tone, silent, passionate, dangerous. The last waiting game in three years of waiting games.

_Hold you in_

_And now_

_I know you've always been_

_Out of your head_

_Out of my head I sang_

No more talking, no more thrusting, simply these long, clawing, shaking shudders as they melted, and he changed faces.

_And I wonder_

_When I sing along with you_

_If everything could ever feel this real forever_

_If anything could ever be this good again_

Her eyes closed, waiting, waiting. _Once you let him bite, there__'__s no going back. _Stupid thing, dangerous thing. Her eyes opened, seeking his. Blue eyes that were still so open, but somehow now they smoked, flashed amber and back again some sort of power play tearing him apart.

Just be whole. Be healthy, be strong, be whole, be alive, and never, ever leave me again. "Don't worry." She whispered finally.

"How can I not? So close to fallin' over some edge, and I can see hell waitin' on the other side." He hissed, a sudden tear escaping his eye, panting as if he had both lungs in full working order.

"I won't let you fall." She swore. "And remember...I love the edges. I like the snags." She smoothed her thumbs over his temples, watching flesh ripple as if she were bringing ridges to the surface with her touch.

She found his edges, sharp and hidden in his mouth.

The snags were mutual, smooth yet unpracticed, hasty, needy, catching, falling, pulling until his mouth clamped against her pulse, murmuring.

"When she did me... it didn't hurt for the first second, then it did, just a bit. Then it stopped. Stopped and it was like I was lighting up inside while the rest of the world was getting dark." _You were the last bit of light I saw. Last bit of light in me…_

"But she was draining you. You're not doing that." Buffy breathed.

"Not unless you want it. Until you want it." He licked one spot insistently, softening it.

She tensed, erotic tingles traveling outward from that spot as adrenaline soared through her. "You make it sound like I will one day." Buffy challenged.

"Maybe you will. You'll still be you, if we do it like this. I don't think it matters, unless you really love that tan and your cross accessories. I don't think it matters." He repeated, with growing conviction. I think all that matters is we stay together. Alive or dead."

Scary. Creepy. Wrong.

And totally the truth. "I'm not ready yet."

"I know." He hugged her close. "Just breathe for me. Breathe out." She did, and like stones sinking as waters rise, his fangs slid in as he caught that silent breath.

_The only thing I'll ever ask of you_

_You gotta promise not to stop when I say when_

* * *

_Home in the valley _

_Home in the city _

_Home isn't pretty _

_Ain't no home for me _

He was only there for seconds. But he was lost. Carried in a red tidal wave that made the demon wake and whisper.

_Why are you going to stop? Why should you? _

_ This isn__'__t who I am. I__'__m no killer. I__'__m only hungry. _

_ Hungry for her. For_ all _of her. I know you, and I know that's how you want her. The last drop__'__s the best._

_ And when I swallow it, I hand over ownership__, to you. That's not what I want at all__. I__'__m not stupid._

But she tasted so amazing, so sweet, and like literally drinking_ life. _Pure. A life force. Power. Pure power to the boy who'd been powerless for so bloody long. Temptation gnawed on him, as he gnawed on her.

Lost in his own mind, caught between two voices, both his own.

_Home in the darkness _

_Home on the highway _

_Home isn't my way _

_Home will never be _

_ You don__'__t want to live like this, do you? You can feel it. You__'__re not human. You__'__re not demon. You might technically be a vamp, but you__'__re also technically not a man anymore. You need to pick one, "__Spike__"__. _

_Burn out the day _

_Burn out the night _

_ That__'__s wrong. I never was meant to pick. I__'__m _meant _to be the Spike. Maybe you don't know what that means. It's the shaft of black in the light, light in the dark. She told me so. She told me all about you. How to control you, or rather, not let you control me. Like a pretty riddle in a rotten package, but I figured it out. _

_I can't see no reason to put up a fight _

_I'm living for giving the devil his due _

_ I won__'__t take a life. Even if it kills me. I will never give it to you. I will never feed you someone else's life, even if it means I lose mine. __You don__'__t get your due. I don__'__t play by your rules. I__'__m not a demon, I__'__m not a human. I__'__m not William, or Spike, I am William, The Spike. I am whole. _

_ And I am not lost. I am home._

* * *

She felt him rear back with a gasp, a greedy gulping sound, and she gasped as well, loudly, before her mouth was captured, locked in a wet scarlet kiss, desperate, dangerous. "Will!"

"I love you! I love you, Baby, I'm safe. I'm home. I'm home." His chest heaved, and he sobbed suddenly. "You're my home. Don't let go. Don't go."

"No, no, no, I'm right here." She nodded frantically, kissing him back, ignoring the slightly bitter bloodstained taste he left in her mouth. "What's wrong? Do you need more?"

"No. No, I don't."

_And I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you _

_I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you _

"You're home. My home. My love, my everything. I've swallowed enough of you to feel you in me. You feel me in you?" He pressed in deep, hit the soft nub of flesh at the base of her womb, felt her cramp and grind, and moan for him.

"Never wanna stop feeling like this." Maybe Slayer blood was an aphrodisiac on both sides, Buffy thought hazily. _Sharing. Giving it. Knowing he took it. Knowing I'm running in his veins. Part of him. Keeping him living. _

_ Part of him that won__'__t go away. Won__'__t leave me now. Won__'__t lose him now. Forever. _She looked at him as hungrily as he regarded her. She had known empty promises before. This one was built on something that couldn't be erased, not now. _Finally found forever, and I can keep it this time._

_Time is the essence _

_Time is the season _

_Time ain't no reason _

_Got no time to slow _

"It's gonna come back, the hunger."

"I'll still be here."

"I won't keep using you."

"You don't use me. I give myself to you, and you-" she locked her thighs across the backs of his, holding him in deep, "you give me yourself, too."

"Forever, Baby."

"That's what I was thinking."

_Time everlasting _

_Time to play B-sides _

_Time ain't on my side _

_Time I'll never know _

He bit again, frenzied this time, an act of consummation, completion. High on the breast, where the hill met the collarbone, holding on, suckling gently, feeling her orgasm, and finally matching her.

_Burn out the day _

_Burn out the night _

_I'm not the one to tell you what's wrong or what's right _

_I've seen suns that were freezing and lives that were through _

Screams and roars echoed. Sheets tore and a lamp broke, hiding the splatters of blood on the linen and on them both.

"Oh wow." Buffy rubbed his back, and he massaged her belly. She was full of soothing coolness, and he was blissfully enjoying her warmth.

"Wow." He echoed, and gently parted from her.

_Well I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you _

_I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you_

* * *

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: I recommend a re-read of the last chapter, then dive right into this one. _

_Dedicated to Omslagspapper (cover design), AGriffinWriter, The Darkness Befalls, micmoc, Sirius120, Rosalea12, Ginar369, Illusera, Jhiz, Mars, Breezybiatch, and Kitakana. I couldn't do this without you._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part ****X**

He carried her to the bathroom, all of a bridegroom's pride and sudden responsibility weighing on him, the same way she weighed against him, legs over one arm, head resting against his chest as he bore her down the hall. Blood spattered and bruised, both of them, smiling weakly but happily.

Passion and pent up emotions had calmed. Best friends had become lovers, lovers had become one, in one intensely complex act of life sharing. Life partners now, looking at each other with no less love or lust, but with the eyes of a time-tested couple, even though they hadn't had much time together yet.

_Yet. _All the time belonged to them now.

"Bruised you. Sorry." He kissed her cheek, stroked back her hair as he let her feet drop to the tile.

"You're bruised too. You have… dirt? In your hair." She teased some out and flicked it into the sink.

"Buried." He pointed out.

"Oh. That'll do it." She fought off a sudden chill. Blood loss makes you cold.

He knew it. "It didn't bleed much after I stopped drinking. I can clean that up." He licked his lips.

"I think I want soap."

"We have soap." He turned on the water. She wincingly sat on the edge of the tub. "Hurts?"

"Not really. Just achey." She held his hand.

"I never went that long before." He confessed with a bit of pride and a touch of embarrassment.

"Me, either."

His eyes turned curiously to hers. "Really?" Angel was a vampire. Vampire stamina.

"Funny how different people make you act differently." Buffy smiled, half-shyly. "More into it, you know?"

"I know. Here, it's warm. Want privacy?"

"No. Not yet."

* * *

"This stuff is shit. Utter shit." He grimaced as he worked on a mugful of steaming red fluid.

"Maybe it's not warm enough?" She put her own cup down, coffee, five sugars, and a lot of milk. The sun was coming up, the shades were pulled, and they adjusted.

"I had champagne. Now I'm drinkin' mud." He licked his lips. All things considered, amazing how much he wanted this stuff. He was on his second cup, still struggling it down, feeding a need.

"Maybe I can spike it for you." She held out a fingertip. He pushed it away.

"I'll get used to it. Maybe if I added something to it…" He rose and began rummaging in the cupboards.

"Like what?"

"I'll try anything. Hm. Tabasco."

"Weirdo." _He's drinking blood. My boyfriend is now a vampire. Weird is welcome._

He shrugged and shook several drops in, tasted, winced, then looked at it musingly. "It helps." He nodded slowly and sipped again. "It's still shitty, but it's not 'utter shit'."

"You keep drinking it."

"I'm hungry, and this is the stuff, Luv. Shit or not, it's like bein' dehydrated and humans needin' water. You'll drink from a dirty stream if you have to." He sipped again, taste becoming more palatable with practice. "Gettin' better."

"Hurray for less shit. I wonder what I could do to make my coffee better?" Buffy sipped and wrinkled her nose. "More of a juice person."

"Chocolate syrup?" He turned to the fridge and tossed her the bottle.

She stirred some in, sipped, and smiled. "I could get used to that. Kind of mocha-y." She sipped again. "I knew I loved you."

"For my brains?"

"That was part of it." Buffy giggled, then suddenly rocketed from her chair. "Oh my gosh!" She blurted. "Giles! We didn't call him! We have to-"

A coffee cup shattered in his hand, blood soaked the tiles, and his palm dripped crimson. "Still bleed. How 'bout that." William licked his skin carelessly, thunderous expression on his face.

She watched the act of sudden violence with wide eyes. "Uh… yeah. Yeah, you do. Um. Why the angry?"

"Giles. _Rupert_." The name was a sneer. "My _dear_ uncle."

"You're freaking me out now." Buffy cautioned.

Shards of the cup flew across the room, and he snarled. "Call him? Call him out, man to vamp, swords at ten paces, fangs at two." Will spat and glowered at her with fierce eyes.

"What the heck are you saying? Aside from the bad drama. You love your uncle, you-"

"Hate his guts! Wanna blacken those wise old eyes and split those nancy-boy lips, let the toff right out of him."

"Hey." Buffy put her own cup down once more and approached him. "I don't know what the deal is, how you can do boyfriend to psycho in six seconds, but that's MY Watcher you're threatening to beat up. I love him. You love him, too, whether you remember it or-"

"Oh, I remember. I remember a million little details now. A million little lies."

"Will!"

"Years. _Years,_ Buffy! Years and years he lied about what he did. Museum curator-"

"He was!"

"Watcher with a cover, more like. Then the job in Sunnydale. A fuckin' Hellmouth, Slayer, and do you know he never even said, 'Hey, Will, fancy packin' a cross?' Leavin' me unprotected."

"He must've thought you- you would think he was nuts." Buffy tried to calm him.

"You gave me a chance." Will's eyes were dark, glaring. "You told me you were the Slayer. Must've been scared."

"Terrified." She admitted softly.

"You still did it. Had a bit of faith in me. Or maybe I was all you had left."

"Both."

Shoulders swam angrily, swathes of newly hard muscle rippling as he let the rage course over him. "I thought I was all he had, too. Guess not. Guess the job, guess the duty always meant more to him than I did."

"Don't say that stuff. It's the demon talking."

Mistake.

"_This is_ the demon._ I am _the demon. He's me, I'm him, and there's really not much 'we' in it, Luv. One big ball of power and not too much 'tact'. Rupert let my parents die. He totters off to the most dangerous place in the fuckin' universe with nothing but a handful of relics and books for weapons and waits for his own send off." Black eyes went back to blue, angry, but even more, pained. "Orphan. Again."

Buffy reached for him, but he didn't close the distance. "He wanted to protect you. He knew it was dangerous, but… but I don't think once you're a Watcher you can just quit. M-maybe he knew I'd be 'called' soon. Maybe he thought about leaving me out there… alone. Stupid. And he couldn't do it. Some people you do stupid things for. Put yourself at risk for…" She walked to him, laying her hand on his gently, feeling the knuckles buckle under hers as the hand curled back into a fist. "Do you think I would still be here without him? He brought me you - and well, we know how that turned out." Her voice faded. His expression softened- for a second.

"I forgive him then. For that." Will growled harshly. "But if that's the case-then how could he turn on me now? Stop helpin' me? Let me die?"

Sympathy and reason was only partially effective. Buffy switched off the softness and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, gosh, Spike, let's see. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that out of the bajillion vamps your uncle has met, you're the _only one _who didn't go all Lizzie Borden on your family after you turned."

Will's eyes blinked in surprise.

"What? You can dish it out but not take it? You wanna lose the tact, fine, I'll un-tact your ass off."

"I think I'm just amazed you know who Lizzie Borden was."

"Yeah, well… When I'm bored with undead evil, human psychos are a nice distraction." She shrugged. "And maybe there was a documentary on one time and I couldn't find the remote."

Anger cooled between them, into a dull amusement. Comfortable in all emotions, all weathers, the friendship at the core still the strongest. "He was scared. He loves you so much. I think it's hard for him to tell you how much." Buffy finally murmured.

"He lied to me. Years of lies."

"We all lied. Me, too. For years." Buffy finally fired back.

"You told me everything- too much sometimes, sometimes it hurt so bad to hear you talk about him."

"But you let me. You forgave me. But I was still lying."

His chest tightened up, but he didn't know what physiological ability caused it now.

Buffy looked away, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. In the electric glare of the lights off the tile, Will could see how pale she was, how the redness hadn't faded from her neck.

"We both lied. You're smart. You know it. You knew it all along." She licked her lips. "I kept saying I needed the 'edges', and I never said you had them, even if I could tell. I could tell. The first poem I ever read…" She shook her head in amazement at the memory of the raw, if sometimes clumsy, energy in his words, in his mind, "You hid a lot under the nice smile, Will."

He turned her chin gently, lifting her beautiful face, right now stubbornly set. "Lied to ourselves all along. Should have chosen me, you knew, you knew I'd choose you."

"Actually… I thought- I thought maybe I lost that part. That chance." Buffy admitted. "When I left."

The anger that had ebbed flooded back. There seemed to be only fleeting glimpses of middle ground for him, either very calm, sated, in control, or sweeping, heated, fury that gave him rushes of power. "You left. You left me."

"I left everyone!"

"No!" His eyes were suddenly slits, expression a barely controlled seethe. "You left me. The others, the hell with them, you could've trusted me. I would've gone with you. I stood by you when you were with him, when you were against him, when you were alone."

"I was never alone. I had you." Buffy's eyes overflowed."A-and I thought, if you stayed with me… if I let myself lean on you- I'd just take you down, too. Hurt you, too. Look at what I'd done to everyone else by then!" _I had to have one person left in the world… someone, somewhere safe, someone who loved me. _"I thought being around me would get you hurt."

"D'you think I'd have cared?" _It hurt worse when you went away. I couldn't even find you._

"I would have!" She hit his chest lightly, and he gripped her wrist, pulling her into his arms.

"Idiot." He snorted into her hair. "Couldn't you tell I didn't mind the hurt? Long as it was you? 'Cause you never mean for me to be in pain."

Comforting kisses on the crown of her head. She returned them, lips pressing to his collarbone as he spoke. "Maybe that's why it was safe to run. I knew you'd forgive me. You knew it was something stupid, something I did when I was wigging and heartbroken- and you knew I would have forgiven you if you did the same thing."

"I never would have."

"Never would have left me? What about seeing if you died and woke back up? Risks we take, Spike. Will." She kissed him gently. "It's not the same, but it has the same worries. Leaving, waiting, hurting- maybe you believed, like I believed, some day we'd find our way back together, even if we think we're passing the point of no return."

"Never lost faith in you." Spike declared.

"You either." Buffy reassured. Then, in a smaller voice, "You just get mad at me?"

"Oh, bloody hell." He sighed heavily. "And you say I'm the smart one. Look, I'm not actually angry anymore. Just had to get it off my chest."

"And Giles?"

"Buffy…"

"And _Giles_?" She said more insistently.

"He's not young, in love, and stupid."

"No. He's middle aged, scared, and heartbroken."

"Dammit… No."

"You won't let me call him?" Buffy looked up at him incredulously.

His eyes were dark, but then they twinkled faintly. "Nope. Some things he won't believe over the phone. Let's pack."

* * *

"You said you didn't care if she killed vamps?" Doyle asked casually.

"Nope." Angel said with a shrug.

"But if she takes one with her?"

"Yeah, that'd be worth noticing." Angel muttered into his book, a scoffing snort punctuating his remark.

"Then you ought to sit up and take notice, Angel." Doyle reached out and pushed the book into his quasi-friend's lap. "Some of my associates from the bad old days happened to mention business'll be picking back up, now that the Slayer's gone."

"She's gone. Fine." His chest heaved once, no air came out, of course.

"They saw her leave a few hours ago. Funny thing was- this other car followed hers. Some vintage black piece- with foil all over the windows, except for a little strip 'bout where the driver would look over the wheel."

"What?" Angel suddenly seemed to take an interest.

"An' they thought to themselves- why in the world would you do that to a car? No reason, unless the driver doesn't want to be seen. But then, why not just rent yourself something with dark windows, like those movie stars have?" He led.

Angel followed, rising angrily. "Or the driver's flammable in the sunlight. Dammit!" Angel swore and kicked the chair. "I told her! I warned her! Now he's following her…"

"What exactly is the deal?" Doyle asked.

"Buffy's boyfriend did something stupid and got turned! Now she's in danger, he's following her. I warned her! Dammit!" The curse had more vigor the second time. "I have to get to a phone."

* * *

"Did you call?"

"No, you said not to."

"Yeah, but I know you. An' I know him." Will's face darkened. "I'll be lucky if I make it to the door without an arrow in my chest…"

"There's still time to call."

"No. I have to do it my way." He sighed and fumbled for his keys, newly nimble fingers almost magically finding the right one and having it perfectly ready to push into the lock.

"Whoa, aren't we going to knock?" Buffy grabbed his elbow.

"If I knock, he has time to load his crossbow. If I just walk in, well, for one thing, he'll know I'm different. No invitation required. At least not until the bellyache gets a bit too much."

"So you're just going to barge in?"

"It's my home!"

"You'll give him a heart attack. I know you're mad at him, but is that what you want?"

"No." He grudgingly admitted.

"Let me go in. Then you. I won't give him time to invite you, I won't give him time to get ready to stake you, either. But you can't just-"

"Don't tell me what I can't do, Slayer."

"Fine. I'll let you decide. Do you want him to pass out, or have a heart attack, or would you like a couple minutes to actually talk to the guy who's probably out of his mind worried by now?"

He shoved her shoulder gently. "Go on then."

* * *

"Giles? Giles!" Buffy pushed the door open after no one answered her knock.

"Buffy? Buffy, is that you?" A voice came form upstairs, followed by a thud and a clatter.

Her eyes widened and she ran forward, in time to see him skidding down to her, rumpled and stained, disheveled and wild eyed. She couldn't tell if the normally dapper man hadn't slept in days, or had just woken up. "Giles, I-"

She had no time to finish the sentence. He was hugging her tightly, scents of faded cologne and hints of whiskey wrapping around her as his raspy voice shakily whispered in her ear, "You're back. Thank God. William?"

Buffy pulled back, and looked at him, trying to keep her face blank. "I don't want you to say anything or do anything."

"Are you hurt? Is he…?"

"I want you to see for yourself." She tightened her grip on his forearms, partially because she was so glad to see him, partially to keep him immobile. "Everything's good. Really."

"Buffy, what aren't you saying?" His voice hardened, and he blinked blearily, attempting to shake her off, and panicking slightly as she realized she couldn't be moved.

"Hello Bertie." Will's voice was surprisingly gentle as he appeared in the doorway.

"Will." Giles gasped softly and stopped struggling.

"It's me. Still me." He steeled himself and put one foot over the threshold.

The room seemed to slide into some time vortex, where the half-second it took William to cross into the flat seemed like a decade.

He stood in the entryway, draped in black, so much paler than he'd been a week ago, a certain bearing about him was different as well. But his smile, slow to manifest, was still the same crooked half-grin. His arms opened slightly. "I'm home."

* * *

Buffy felt herself pushed backwards. She didn't realize her half-drunk, stressed, sleep-deprived Watcher was so strong. She reeled and caught herself as Giles flew to William's side, into his arms in relief.

"Thank God! Thank God you're home, thank God you didn't go through with it."

William's eyes met Buffy's alongside the Watcher's head as Giles placed a thankful half-kiss on his nephew's brow. "Bertie, I- Bertie. I did."

Giles drew back at once. His hand was faster than even their eyes, and it seemed he was about to strike his prodigal ward, but instead he clapped hand to his cheek. "Cold, but I've felt colder." The hand pushed. The head turned. Giles' mouth dried and he said nothing as he stared at the white on white scar, a raised mountain of skin that was now flawless everywhere else. "It's dark. You were so pale… even before." He whispered shakily.

"Cancer'll do that to you." William caught his uncle's wrist, but kept his grip light. "I'm still me."

"He is." Buffy chimed in. _We'll mention all the scary rage stuff later, but really. That's Will. That's Will without fear. _

Giles' eyes were wary. They could fool some people. They could fool all the people- for short periods of time. It could be the demon mocking them all.

Except vampires can't get in without express invitation. "I didn't invite you." Giles stepped back, eyes suddenly hard and wary.

"I wish you would." Will gasped sharply as the pain in his middle intensified. "I can come in, but it hurts a bit."

"You… how? How is this possible?"

"I promise not to bite you, now give me the official offer and I can tell you." He grabbed his side, stepping away from his uncle as the pain bent him double.

"Giles, ask him!"

"This isn't right." Giles shook his head, miserable confusion in his eyes.

"No. It's not." Will panted. "If I'd stopped battlin' the pain, if I'd listened to the demon between life an' death, it'd be cut and dried. But I didn't. I let it burn me, and then when I woke, I killed my sire, I walked back to Buffy, I refused to give into the urge kill, to take a life, and just took blood. That's right. I'm a vamp. I'm a blood-drinking, undead, monster. But I'm still in control. I'm still 'innocent', no blood on my hands- even if it's been in my mouth." He couldn't take it any longer. He took a heaving step backwards, and crossed back to the outside, straightening up as the pain magically disappeared. "The laws half-affect me. I've got fangs, got no reflection, but I'm still Will. William, the Spike, the dark in the light, the light in the dark. I'm the edge of the razor."

"Come in." Giles said suddenly, and dragged his nephew back inside, hugging him hard, weeping and laughing all at once, something broken and bordering hysteria and relief all at once. Buffy and Will exchanged a confused look. Giles drew back and explained. "No one else could jam that much poetry into ordinary conversation. It _is _still you."

"I told you that, you idiot." Will snarled ungraciously.

"Oh. He has a temper now." Buffy added.

"Always had the bloody temper." He snarled again.

"The English are typically too polite to show it in social situations." Giles remarked drily.

"Yeah, well, _that's _done with." Buffy crossed her arms and discreetly pinched herself. _Yep. I'm here. With Giles and Will. Both alive. I'm alive. This is wonderful. This is a miracle._

"You bet it is. I've got a few things I've been meanin' to say to you, old man." The growling hadn't subsided as the Spike-dominant side showed itself. "Owe you a lifetime of telling off, what you did to me, how you lied to me."

Giles looked contemplative. "Go ahead. Then I'll take a turn and tell you how bloody foolish you've been and what you put me through."

"Um. Can we not?" Buffy waved for attention. "I mean, technically Will was right. He did control the demon, he's not… not bad, even if he's a vampire." Buffy said in a rush. Giles' mouth opened once, then shut slowly. Will smirked smugly, and she turned to him. "What you did was still crazy dangerous and it's a _miracle_ it worked."

"There's some people you can do crazy things for." He came to her side, a possessiveness Giles found new, and a warmth that he found familiar.

_They've evolved, I suppose. What they've shared- no couple should have to go through, but the strong ones survive it. These two survived it in ways no others in history have. _

Buffy laid her head on the now still chest, her own possessiveness in her eyes, that her Watcher didn't miss.

_Evolved in deed. That's not just my two favorite youngsters, the high school-slash-college sweethearts. _

_ That__'s a Slayer and her Vampire._ He shook with a sudden chill. _Only a fool would ever dare come between those two, as deeply in love and as dangerous as they are. _He coughed and parted the couple who were sinking into some sort of hypnotic stare, leaning towards each other as if they were the only two in the universe.

"William. You've gotten a new lease on life. Unlife. Living. As it were." He wished he'd been wearing his glasses so he'd have something to polish right now as he fumbled his opening statement and earned himself a long suffering look from Buffy and a glare from his nephew. "May I have the same chance? Even if you're mad at me for failing to help you earlier- let me help you now."

"Still family. Aren't we?" Will said gruffly.

"You didn't want to get more time to spend it being angry at people you love, did you?" Buffy pointed out softly.

William paused. Freedom. Vamping had meant freedom from so many things, the awkward filters between words and brains, a poet and musician suffering inside, unable to speak. It meant power. To vanquish death, find a new sort of life, one not so easily ripped and eaten away.

_It means love. Loving them enough to fight so hard- fight hard enough I think my bloody soul got torn in half and shared with a demon- but I won. I won so I could be with them. _

"You get on my last bloody nerve sometimes, Bertie." Will snarled- then smiled. "I'm not gonna keep quiet about it anymore."

"You didn't in the first place." Giles grinned back.

Buffy stared. "Is this how you two say everything's cool?"

"Yes." They replied in chorus.

Buffy laughed, then sighed. _Okay. First hurdles are done. No killing anyone, no sire bossing him around, no killing me, no killing Giles. Plus sex. This day is going _so_ much better than the one before it._ "Can we celebrate? I think we should celebrate."

"Absolutely!" Giles agreed. Caution was killed by relief, by evidence he saw with his own eyes- with hope. "Should we- stay in?"

"Unless you shower. You smell like drunk old guy." Buffy wrinkled her nose.

"You smell fine. Really good actually." Will sniffed. There was an awkward paused, awkward glances.

"Um."

"Oh." Giles swallowed uncomfortably.

William stopped sniffing and sat down heavily on the couch. "This is going to take some getting used to."

* * *

"More."

"More?"

"How much have you got?"

"I think we might need to get some sort of contract with the slaughter house."

"You could ask Angel who his…" Giles handed Buffy another mug of blood, but stopped speaking as a growling sound erupted. "Good Lord. Was that-"

"We don't say the A-word." Buffy hissed and swished off, mug in hand.

"Ah. Not overly fond of him myself." Giles admitted. "Do you want me to order you - uh- anything?" He'd almost said 'human food'.

"The usual." Spike drained his third mug in an hour, trying to keep the creepy (yet oddly not as creepy as he knew it should be) cravings for blood, anyone's blood, down. Giles was washed and dressed in more suitable clothes, Buffy looked less worried, and the night as a whole seemed- surreal.

_I feel better dead than alive. _Eyes strayed to the guitars on the wall._ I bet I can play better too. Music sounds better. Everything is better. So what if it's weird? We'll adjust. _

"We can patrol tonight." Spike stood up suddenly. "All of us. I'm about as fast as you. Almost as strong."

"No rush." Buffy looked startled. "You're still getting… huh. I guess you're done getting better." _You're dead. _"You're healed."_ Irony-overload. _

"I'm better than ever. Dyin' to try out the new moves." His eyes lit up, then darkened, smoldered. "_All _the new moves."

"Third party present." Giles piped up in a strained voice. "I can make myself scarce. After dinner." They ignored him. The smoldering eyes were on both sides, blue and green, practically creating a heat field between them. "Or perhaps before dinner." No reaction. "Buffy. Did you call Willow?"

"Huh?" Buffy jumped in her seat.

"What's that?" Spike jerked back to reality.

"Willow and Oz. They're probably very anxious for news."

"Oh, we should call." Buffy said eagerly, then bit her lip. "Unless you're going to wig out on them?"

Spike considered. The redhead. Nice. Magical._ Oooh, I wonder if magic blood tastes- well, maybe someday she'll let me have a taste, not much. More like a wine tasting. Sip, swish- no spitting. Swallowing. _

"Will?"

_Oz. Werewolf blood- no good. Somehow I know that. Demons don't drink demons. But I like him. I like them both. Nice people. Good friends. Friends don't bite friends. Unless it's a special occasion. No, not even then, no biting. _

"Spike!" Buffy shouted.

He jumped slightly. "What, Luv?"

"I think we should avoid them after all. You're drooling."

"I can't help it! It's like suddenly realizing everyone in the world doesn't just have a- an outward appearance, an' a personality, they also have a flavor!"

"You were thinking about snacking on my best friend and _your_ best friend?" Buffy looked worried.

_My best friend. She's my best friend. _"Already snacked on you."

"What?" The take out menu fluttered to the floor, Giles' hand suddenly unable to grasp it. "You bit-" He couldn't even finish. The thought of all his worst fears, of what the ones you loved could do once they were turned flooded him and left him mute.

"Not like that." Buffy soothed. "Think of it like a hickey. With pointy teeth."

Giles apparently disagreed. "You allowed him?"

"I didn't hurt her!" Spike spat angrily. "I love her!"

"You fed on her!"

"I - did." He had. And it didn't seem wrong. It seemed right. Dangerously right. "I would never take much."

"He told you he drank blood, he said it when he was being all poet-y in the doorway." Buffy protested, wondering how often the two main men in her life would have these volatile shifts in mood and conversation.

"I thought you meant from a bag, like you are now!"

"I did that too! I tasted her. Because… Because you don't understand what it's like to-"

"He did it because I told him to." Buffy jumped in. She grabbed Spike's hand and shook her head at Giles. "It was fine. It wasn't painful- well, pinchy, but not bad. Actually really good."

"Good?" The older man looked bewildered.

"It's none of your business as long as I don't hurt her." William frowned, watching the wheels in the Watcher's mind turning to dangerous paths.

"You're my nephew, she's my Slayer and - much more. Of course it's my business!"

"It's no one's business! I don't want to talk about this! Crossing into private, dating area stuff!" Buffy yelped and found herself stepping between the two again. "Nothing bad happened, and we're not bringing this up again! If I was in danger, I'd handle it!"

"An' I wouldn't let her be in danger!" Spike backed her up.

"You sure about that?" A fourth voice broke into the conversation.

Three figures turned, all sharing expressions anger and surprise.

Angel stood in the doorway, flanked by a much smaller, dark haired man. "I'm pretty sure you _are _the danger."

* * *

"Angel? What the hell are you doing here?" Buffy pushed herself in front of Spike. "And who the hell is with you? No offense."

"None taken." Doyle looked mildly uncomfortable. "I wanted to knock, but he wanted the element of surprise."

"Shouldn't you be able to sense him?" Buffy asked Spike.

"Me? What about you?"

"You both should!" Giles interjected.

"It's a Hellmouth! Vampires everywhere!" Buffy hissed as Spike cried, "New at this!"

Angel stood in the doorway. This was not the reaction he'd anticipated. This was not even the _situation _he'd anticipated. Why were they back at Giles' apartment?

The horrible truth. To kill his family.

The odd reality- three people in a living room, arguing but not injuring, with evidence of being there awhile- a mug half full of- beef blood.

The spat continued, and Angel took advantage of it to get a closer look, stepping stealthily forward.

Giles caught the motion first, odd as it was considering his company, and stepped in front of the two he considered his children. "I should have de-invited you. There is a process. How _dare _you march into my home without so much as a knock?"

"He's not evil!" Doyle quickly mentioned.

"He's still rude." Buffy glared.

"Still gonna get his ass kicked. I've been waiting a long time for this." Spike tried to side step his girlfriend and father-figure, who simply moved with him.

"See?" Angel directed his gaze to Buffy. "He's a vampire. He's not the same person, he just looks like the man you knew. But Buffy, listen to me-"

"Wait, wait, wait. We already know he's a vampire. Were you rushing over to save me because you thought he fooled us? 'Cause that's wrong. And you're an idiot. But you don't need your ass kicked."

"Yes, he does." Spike growled.

"Shut up, Will."

"You're okay with him bein' a vamp? You're a very understandin' bunch of people." Doyle's accent thickened in incredulity.

"I'm not a killing, raping, torturing beast - like some people." The venom in Spike's tone made Angel wince.

Guilt prickled, and guilt, something he usually welcomed felt out of place with this situation. This little fledge, with trickery, and worming his way into homes, into hearts- anger and self-righteousness swiftly took guilt's place. "All of them are. All of us are- without a soul."

"Maybe I still have mine. I battled for it." Spike defiantly stuck out his jaw.

"You're dead, aren't you?" Angel glowered.

"He is, and maybe he doesn't have a 'soul'. Maybe not a whole one. It doesn't matter. He didn't take a life. The demon doesn't own you until you pay the dues." Buffy stepped up beside Spike, torn between keeping him back and pushing him to safety.

"How do you know? Were you with him every second?" Angle cast doubts.

Buffy refused to pick them up. "Some people don't keep secrets from each other. Some people… you trust, even when they're different. They're still themselves."

"Maybe you just never liked to admit what a wanker you were as a human." Spike spat, looking him up and down. "Angelus and who you were - one might've been an evil, soulless killer, but I bet you were both sorry excuses for people."

"This isn't going to settle anything!" Giles' voice rang loudly, making his own much abused head throb. "Angel, thank you for coming to our aid- next time knock-"

"Don't let there be a next time." Spike muttered warningly under his uncle's rational tones.

"-but as you can see, William, while he may have been turned, isn't a threat. At this time."

"Hey!" Buffy and Spike cried as one.

"We'll keep an eye on the situation, and we will deal with… whatever arises." The Watcher concluded stiffly. "I suggest you leave."

"C'mon, man. Seen stranger things in a night, haven't we?" Doyle attempted to lead Angel away.

Angel jerked his elbow away. "No. No, I'm not leaving. No, I haven't seen anything stranger than a vampire who 'keeps' his soul. It's never been done before."

"Never was someone like Buffy before." Spike retorted. "Worth keepin' it together for, worth livin', dyin', stayin' safe for." The hardened features softened slightly, eyes losing their angry fire, and turning into a different kind of intense heat as they met hers.

Angel winced inside. _Only I didn't stay 'safe'. I didn't even try._ Memories of how Angelus had turned on the woman he loved, turned on all her friends and family- no hint of humanity- rankled in light of the pale blonde's words.

"Fine." Angel ground out through barely held in fangs. "You haven't killed yet. You rushed right back to Buffy. You're not a human anymore. You're a vampire. You're never safe, William. You're just waiting to slip. You're a killer waiting to happen. And you're putting her in danger."

"First- you can call me Spike if you use my name, an' frankly, wish you wouldn't." There was no holding him back now. He moved past Buffy, past Giles, and the scrawny little Irish man nervously getting out of his way. "Second- you're talkin' out your arse. You never listened, never learned." He swallowed. "You broke her down, broke her mind, but she was still right about some things. You don't give the demon his due- and he's yours, you're not his. Maybe the urge to drink is still there, the anger even, so many of the dark things." Spike was standing inches from him now, unflinching, unafraid. Immortality did that to you, too. You lost a lost of fears, fear of the big bullies like death and this bastard to begin with. "I'm not a split piece of work like you, no Jekyll and Hyde around here. I'm jus' me. Still the good guy with a little bit of the bad- and I know what to use it for." The threat was obvious.

Angel didn't like being threatened. Not by someone he'd very recently viewed as a challenge for his Buffy, and a scrawny, human one at that. "You think you own yourself? Then you're in real trouble, 'Spike'." He said the name mockingly, and the other vampire's hackles went up. "You might know what you want, but if your sire ever- what?"

The younger man's face shadowed, the eyes didn't look away, but they dimmed. "My sire is dead. I killed her. So she couldn't control me. Tempt me. Be my weakness… like she was yours."

So many pieces clicked into place, a puzzle coming together all at once, in blinding, painful clarity.

_He and Drusilla… She wanted him from the beginning. She had him. He was dying. She turned him. She loved him. She was mine. He killed her. I should have killed her. He did what I never could do- even as her creation, even newly risen, weak, without a soul, with a demon._

_ He killed my Drusilla._

* * *

Roars broke out, one then the other, startling all the human inhabitants of the room into retreating a few steps as a battle broke out.

They fought like two wild beasts, not two men. No words, only roars, human faces fleeing. Giles looked angry, terrified, and sickened all at once, watching the boy he'd held as an infant turn into some brawling inhuman monster. But he still wanted that monster to win. "Buffy! Help me separate them!" He urged, and Buffy nodded.

"They'll kill each other!" Doyle agreed, wide-eyed. He'd watched Angel take on a few baddies, plenty of vamps, but he'd never seen him go like this, with utter savagery. So much for the soul.

* * *

Spike loved this. Angel hated it. The broader, weightier man threw him down and lunged- and Spike's booted feet launched into his ribs and sent him flying.

"The guitars!" Buffy gasped as the walls shook and furniture toppled.

He didn't care. He didn't care about the room they were wrecking. Maybe changing made him reckless. He went for the other demon viciously as he knew how, wanting to inflict the maximum of pain. Payback. Vengeance. Avenging. He had a long memory- and now he had the muscle to back it up.

The room spun as he flew threw the air, and he crashed through the front door. The battle continued outside, neither caring what the neighbors saw.

* * *

"Oh my God. Giles, I can't get between them when they're like- like angry alley cats. Really deadly, scary, loud alley cats." Buffy blinked and watched the fight spilling from the landing into the small courtyard. "Get me a cross or something." Buffy ran for what used to be the door.

"What set him off?" Doyle was lost. "I'd thought he'd be happy the little guy lost any ties he had with his sire. Sires are powerful influences." Doyle helped Giles grab a few crosses and make a path through the debris.

Giles considered pointing out that Doyle was in no position to refer to William as "the little guy", but instead stuck to the crucial matter at hand. "Drusilla is William's sire, I am almost entirely sure. You know the name?"

"Yeah!" Doyle's eyes widened as he leapt over a flood of books from a tipped bookcase. "His masterpiece. Girl he likes to torture himself with when he's not torturing himself about blondie." He jerked his head towards Buffy.

Giles' lips thinned._ The Irish… ever impertinent. _"Yes, he likes to brood over his pains- I don't think he knows how to cure them- one thing William had no trouble with doing. Painfully direct." They stumbled out of the house after Buffy.

"Your son?" Doyle watched the two locked in battle a dozen feet away, the girl doing her best to cut through the snarling mass with words and fists, to no avail.

Giles hesitated. For all intents and purposes- "Yes."

"He knew about all this, the ins an' outs of turnin'. Was he sick?"

"Cancer. Took his mother as well. Genetic. Buffy! Here!" He tossed her a cross. "Help us push Angel to the left, back him away from Will." He addressed Doyle.

"Right. Only- Angel made Drusilla. Shouldn't your boy see him like some sort of grandfather? Sire's line an' all that?"

"No. The sire's link is broken. The bloodline still exists, but without the communicating piece. That's why Angel felt no allegiance to the Master after Darla was killed. Well, that and the soul. William! I mean- Spike! Stop this, it's not going to be solved in a fight unless one of you dies!"

The first actual words either had said since the battle began rang out in unison "I'm fine with that!"

"Maybe the link isn't as dead as you thought." Doyle muttered, cautiously walking towards them cross extended.

"No… I think they both sincerely hate each other. At least at this moment."

* * *

Scuffling. Burning pain from outside forces. Spike felt it like a stinging bite of some sort, whereas Angel felt the smoking of hot pokers. They moved together, eager to continue the fight rather than separate, both of them having waited for this moment for longer than they'd care to admit.

"You- killed her. She- she wasn't yours to take."

"Still thought of her as yours, did you?" Spike panted. "Whyn't you ever love the girl then? Be near her? Don't tell me about Buffy, that was centuries later."

He didn't answer. Had no good answer. "She was innocent. _I_ made her what she was!"

"Not arguin'." Spike decked him again, again, again, each punch breaking his skin, but splitting Angel's as well, so he considered it worth every little twinge. "So you should pay. Pay for her, pay for Buffy…"

"That wasn't me!"

"You can lie to the humans." Spike staggered back, the pain of the cross finally giving them some space. "But you can't lie to one of us. We know. An' she told me- how she loved you. How she followed you for years an' years."

"I was sparing her!"

"Sparing her what? Leavin' her alone and unloved? Don't tell me she couldn't. Don't tell_ me_!" A rain of blows, bones cracked, both of theirs, and he didn't really mind. "I couldn't love her. Not with a soul. Not while she was evil."

Spike snorted, blood dripping from one nostril as he did so. "You have a soul? Then you should have had mercy. Loved her, or put her out of her pain. I did. Both. An' it bloody_ kills _you. That you had a century of chances and I had only one. You wasted all of them, and I didn't."

Everything he said was true. There was nowhere to run from the truth. Nowhere to run from him and all the things he was forced to hear- so he simply- he simply wanted the truth to go away. Angel grabbed him by the collar and hurled with all his might.

"Spike! No!" Buffy watched her boyfriend fly through the air- and through the neighbor's front window in a shower of glass. "Oh my God! Oh my God, I should- I should…" Buffy made inarticulate sounds in her throat, glaring at her former lover. "If you hurt him- if he landed on something pointy and wooden- you are going to die. And you won't wanna come back this time." Buffy charged past Angel with a threat.

"Hey. How'd he do that?" Doyle asked, blinking as he helped Angel stagger forward.

"He's light. It's not actually that far." Angel shrugged, wiping blood from his hands and face, shoulders heaving, trying to block ugly but honest words from his head.

"No… I mean, I thought vamps couldn't go in without an invite. That's someone's flat, they live there. See- all the yellin' happening? He's clearly _not_ invited."

Angel frowned. "What? Well maybe it's a demon. There are plenty of them in this place."

* * *

"I'm sorry. This big bloke burst into my uncle's, I got him outside-" Will sat up, clutching his middle, shaking glass from his hair, addressing the elderly screaming woman who was standing over him with a can of mace and a kitchen knife.

"Will! Will! Hi, Mrs. Mays, I'm sorry about your window! Are you okay?" Buffy blew in like a petite hurricane.

The mace and knife lowered. Wrinkled eyes squinted at the boy on the floor and the pretty little thing kneeling over him. "William? From next door?"

"Uh-huh." Will winced as he sat up. "I'm sorry about all this." He resisted the urge to lap up the blood coming from his nose. Buffy helped him up and brushed him down.

"It's my ex. He's… got some major boundary issues." Buffy explained.

"And he's a bastard." William added

"Should I call the police?" Mrs. Mays looked horrified.

"No." Both answered too quickly.

"Mrs. Mays!" Rupert called into their midst, interrupting the woman's insistence that they call 911. "I'm so sorry about this! Will, are you alright?"

"Just a few bruises." He rubbed his stomach. "I better leave. I'm drippin' on your nice carpet."

"Why don't you stay until he's gone? Mr. Giles, tell these children we need to call the police!"

"The police have been called." Giles lied with a perfectly straight face. "They'll be here shortly.

With the backhanded invitation, William's gnawing abdominal pain vanished- and he could feel all the other pains. Broken ribs. Maybe nose. Some other things he couldn't name but could feel. "Where is he?"

"I'm going to go deal with him." Buffy breathed, low enough so only he could hear.

"No, it's between him and me."

"That means me, too. I love you. He has no right to try to take you from me. And if it- if it comes down to you or him…" Buffy looked into his eyes and gave a small, painful shrug. "I don't have to say what happens to him, do I?"

He gloried in that level of love, that clear choice. But he shook his head. "You don't have to do that again. Once was enough."

"Losing the big love of your life is a one time deal, too. I won't lose you." Buffy hissed. "I love you. You love me. Baggage and weirdness and stupidity and everything. Love wins."

* * *

Angel stopped short outside the broken window. Kissing figures. Bloodstained kissing figures, mistily watching adults looking on.

"Doesn't look very demonic, does she?" Doyle pointed to the plump gray haired figure.

"Neither do you." Angel muttered. He shook away the images he didn't want to see and strode towards the door- where he stumbled back as if running into an invisible wall. No demon owned this house.

"Buffy. I'm- sorry about the- ma'am I'm sorry about your window." Angel called through the doorway, door left open in Giles' wake.

Mrs. Mays screeched and shook her mace warningly. "The police are coming! You stay away from that poor boy!"

"I can handle myself." Will protested.

"You just got thrown through a window." Buffy pointed out in an undertone. "Let her have this one."

"We're leaving. We'll pay for the damages." Doyle put a few bills down on the doormat and backed away. "You owe me next month's check a little early now." He muttered to Angel.

Angel didn't move. "But…how?"

"I'll see these two out." Giles said firmly. "Buffy, William, stay _here_."

* * *

"Did he already go over there? After he was turned?"

"No."

"He was there as a human, wasn't he?"

"Yes, but even had she let him in, not knowing what he was, you hardly gave him time to ask." Giles remarked. "You know better than anyone, that having been into a home as a human doesn't matter to a vampire. You killed your family. You still had to get invited in. Who was it? A housemaid who didn't think anything of you showing up after your own funeral?"

Angel winced. He remembered exactly the trickery he'd used. Not a housemaid. Little sister. Desperate to have her big brother back. A big brother who had stopped being much of a brother years before he was turned, with his whoring and drinking. "Then how?"

"He can enter any home, just as a human would. Only once there, it's uncomfortable until he has the official 'invitation'. By the way, you've lost yours. Consider yourself officially de-invited, as soon as I have time to perform the incantation."

"Fair." Angel admitted, though pained and confused. "Why? _Why_ can he?"

"Because he told you the truth. He may be a vampire, but he does not have a demon in control of him, in place of his soul. I can't peek inside with some spiritual x-ray machine and tell you what he has. I can only tell you a person is made up of something more than simple state of being, a state of 'species', human or demon. Vampires, even souled ones," he looked significantly at Angel, "need an invitation into a home because they're a demon in a human shell, an unclean entity that has to be offered admittance. Whatever William is- he's not a mere host. He's not evil. He's a blend of things, and I have no research on him." He swallowed suddenly. "I don't need any. He's still my family, as is Buffy, if by intent and not blood." Giles stepped close to Angel suddenly, and something hot shot through the vampire's midriff, a scalding t-shaped welt as Giles pressed a cross to his torso. "They're my family. If you ever come near them again, I will make this a stake, and I'll aim a little higher. Understood?"

No. Nothing made sense, nothing was ever going to be understood. The world was rearranging all its pieces and he was stuck in the middle, alone and bewildered.

Angel cast a tortured glance back to the window. The couple was no longer kissing. Buffy was watching anxiously in his direction, her hand locked firmly in Will's. And the vampire. The vampire was looking at her with a mixture of such love and possession.

He felt sick. Beaten.

Worse, he knew he should feel both. "Don't you worry about what kind of a life she'll have with him?" He made one last, desperate plea.

"Not really." Giles realized, a grim smile on his face. "After seeing them together like this- I only worry about what sort of a life she'd have _without_ him. Which brings me back to my earlier point. You're leaving. Now."

Doyle pulled him. Pulled him again, until the legs moved on their own. Walking away from something he'd always wanted to be and never was. Walking away from someone getting the impossible.

Doyle clapped his back encouragingly. "It sucks, man. But if it's true, that's good, isn't it? She's not in danger. One less evil in the world."

Angel didn't reply.

* * *

Hours of cleaning, and fixing, explaining, going through all the blood in the house, and a little of hers, too, when no one was watching, while Rupert was placing yet another call to his insurance agent and helping Mrs. Mays make a similar call to hers. Hours and hours, until dawn was near, and he had to admit that yes, he was different, and their life would be too.

"I need to drive to the magic shop to get the right herbs, and the slaughter house to get a great deal more blood than I thought possible. And carpet cleaner. No, Buffy, you stay and rest. You both need to rest." I need to rest. But I can't. I still have to help take care of him.

"My room still mine, right?" Will, pale and bruised, smiled up at him from where he lay on the couch.

"Of course." The odd, uneasy feeling wasn't gone. His nephew was changed. But he was still _his._ "Of course. I'll be home in a few hours."

"You need to sleep, too, Giles. This hasn't been a picnic for you, either." Buffy watched him slip into his worn brown leather jacket and loafers, grabbing wallet and keys.

"I feel better now that it's settled. One way or the other." He smiled faintly and left the flat.

Will and Buffy stared after him. "It'll take awhile." Buffy murmured consolingly.

"I know." Will sighed , then looked at her musingly. "Didn't take you any time at all."

"I probably should have been a little more careful. Even_ you _were more careful." She recalled that second where he'd told her to wait- and she hadn't. Sprung into his arms. Then into his kisses, into their bed, into his mouth… _It wasn't safe. Wasn't smart. _"Yeah. Not too bright. You're the smart one."

He disagreed about that. And about the reasons she wasn't wary of him, right from the beginning. "Love isn't brains." Will whispered, taking her hand, leading her upstairs, to a room with drawn curtains, a bed waiting to be unmade. "It's something screaming inside of you."

She swallowed. "You made me scream - in a good way."

"I was inside of you as well. Here." He touched a soft, rapidly turning softer, spot between her thighs. "Here." He kissed the small indentation at her neck.

"You're always inside. Here." She led his fingers up, between her breasts, over her heart.

"I love you, Buffy. Slayer"

"Love you. Will. Spike."

"You know what to call me, when to call me it - how I'm feeling, what name I want." He mused as they mounted the stairs. "I noticed that."

"Well… you always knew what to call me too. Slayer or Buffy."

"It's really one in the same, init?" He hooked his thumbs in the loops of his dirtied black jeans as they entered the room.

She agreed. "Really. One and the same. One and only."

"Some people are just like that." He whispered, watching her ease out of her top.

"People you'd do anything for." She watched his shirt slide from his body, revealing gray and white ridges of bruised ribs, still so perfect.

Mouths met, hands finished undressing, bodies found the bed and sank into it gratefully. "People like you and me, Baby."

"Stupid, crazy people?" She teased as they sank into each other longingly.

He laughed against her throat, blue eyes glinting. "People in love."

* * *

_To be concluded in an epilogue._


	11. Chapter 11: Epilogue

**Stupid Things**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still __**your**__ person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?_

_Author's Note: The epilogue may have some twists and turns not to everyone's liking, but there is a happy ending. This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart, and now even years apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time. _

_Dedicated to Omslagspapper (cover design), AGriffinWriter, The Darkness Befalls, Sirius120, Rosalea12, Ginar369, Illusera, TieDyeJackson, Jhiz, Kitakana, and You Light The Sky. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

**Part ****XI: Epilogue**

_Hours_

There was laughing this time. Not so dire and deep. Joyful. Experimental.

"I can't do that. Only people in movies do that!"

"You have the best balance in the world, you can handle it."

"But then I can't see you!"

"There's a mirror on the other wall!"

"Will."

"Oh. Bugger." He brightened and swiveled her hips away from him anyway, propping himself up on a pillow. "I can still watch you."

Buffy blushed. She seemed to be riding- nothing. Which was weird because a certain part of her was definitely not normally opened like that. "No, no, can't do it. It's freaking me out."

"Damn." Will sighed but with an easy smile. It didn't really matter.

"Maybe after I get used to it?"

"Whatever makes you happy, Baby. Ooh, video cameras still catch vamps, don't they?"

"William!" She slapped his shoulder, cheeks flaming.

"What? Horny-" he sucked one of her fingers and then slowly changed around it, "vampire."

"More like horny twenty year old." She giggled and retrieved her finger, despite the awesome feeling of him nibbling on her over sensitive tip.

He looked up at her worshipfully, face reverting. "I can't help it. I wanna do everything with you. You're the only one I've ever really loved, and now… you're mine."

For some reason, it made her eyes suddenly flood, and she nodded wordlessly. Meaning "I know. It's kind of the same for me, too."

He spoke Buffy. "C'mere, Luv. C'mere." Pulled her down, cuddled her up, and kissed away her tears. Salty sweet. Like her skin. Like her blood. He growled softly, lustfully. Sensory overload, hunger, and love- a good combination, a combination hard to control.

"You're thinking about biting me." Buffy accused in a muffled voice, hidden in his shoulder.

"I am. A little. Not in the bad way." He admitted easily, kissing her cheek. "But I know a cure for it."

"_Actually_ biting me?"

"I was gonna say fucking you until you explode around me- but I could manage a bite while I'm doing it."

Laughter. Tears. Pleasure. Finally, real pleasure for them both. A physical and emotional match. A contented kiss, and then ravishing began.

* * *

"Spike… Spike… Oh, God, Will…" Buffy let him have her, fully take control of giving her what he wanted to give her, to drive her to that explosion. He started gentle, worked his way to so much harder, and yet it didn't hurt. Her slayer muscles welcomed the challenge, squeezing back, sending him into a frenzy in return.

"Slayer. That's my girl, show me how much you like it." He bent down to seize a nipple, felt her hands digging into his scalp and she mewled. "Beautiful Buffy…" He sighed happily, before he moved into her harder, raising her hips from the bed. He heard the hitch of breath, and knew soon she'd let out one long wail, combining his names as he drove her to her a hard, fast, first orgasm. Then settled in for something slower. He smirked wickedly against her, and found her staring back, knowingly.

"This is amazing." He had to voice it.

"Best ever." She had to agree.

Downstairs the door slammed.

They froze.

"This is awkward." Buffy whispered in a suddenly much less happy voice.

"We'll keep it down." He soothed.

* * *

Giles turned up his ancient record player as loud as possible. He should be happy. He really should. Two people he loved most in the world were safe, together, expressing their love for each other after so much heart rending turmoil.

Expressing it loudly. He groaned. "I need sleep, too." He muttered angrily to himself.

* * *

"Did you just hear _Cocaine_?" William asked.

Buffy sat up and stared down at him as he was lapping between her thighs, her moaning and fevered chanting put on hold. "You can _hear_ drugs?"

"No! I mean, actually, I dunno. I meant the Clapton song."

They paused. Yes, loud, skillful guitar playing and the well-known voice were present. "I didn't know Giles ever turned the volume past two." Buffy laughed. Then looked mortified. "He heard us."

"Well... You like when I work my tongue in and-"

"Stop talking!" Buffy hissed, cheeks beet red. "He heard _me_!"

"An' me." Embarrassment was fleeting for vampires. Sex was natural. Sex with her was beyond natural, it was fated, else why would he be there, still himself, making love to the woman he'd literally burn for from the inside out? Pride was far more evident. "I made you make the noises, I want a bit of credit."

She stared. Then narrowed her eyes. "Rephrase. He heard us. And eventually we have to leave this room. Then he will look at us. At me. And he may even _say _something."

Spike began to shrug. The old man knew they were going to be making up for lost time. But it was still private. _She's mine, and she cares. She's not entirely happy, and hm- I don't quite fancy the idea either. _"We have to get our own place." He murmured. "Can you keep it down while we take care of this?" He rose to his knees over her, showing that his arousal wasn't defeated, even if his more bohemian attitudes were.

"I can." Buffy got a wicked gleam in her eye. "Can you?" She pushed him back and slid down him. Her mouth enveloped him in one long glide.

* * *

Giles winced and spilt hot tea on his hand as a snarling purr reverberated. Even Eric couldn't cover up that. He sighed, took a couch cushion, and headed to his car to nap.

* * *

"Ah. Good afternoon. Did you sleep- well, no. Um. You need - hrm- perhaps a-" Giles greeted the couple late afternoon, trying to put his words delicately as possible.

"We're going to find a place of our own." Will spoke up.

"You- you are?" Giles looked relieved, then saddened, and finished with confusion. "I don't see how that's going to be possible. Right now."

"Other vamps do it." Will avoided mentioning Angel and his basement flat. He never did figure out how the vampire got his money. Saved it up over a few hundred years he supposed. "I still have my job in the fall."

"I still have my dorm." Buffy pointed out. "Will has his. Willow was going to be my roommate, and Oz is living on campus... now that we're all going to the same place, all in dorms- we can just make it work. We'll move people around."

"Move yourselves into a basement level, if possible." Giles eventually nodded at the suggestion.

"We'll get heavy drapes." Will shrugged.

"I meant for the sake of the poor neighbors below you."

"Oh. We- we're really sorry about all the - everything." Buffy squeaked.

"No apologies needed. And now," Giles looked extremely sober, "we will all pledge to never speak of this again. Agreed?"

"Agreed." The couple said in unison.

Giles coughed and looked sideways at his nephew. So changed, but still the same in many ways. The way he sat, the way his eyes always seemed to find Buffy. Buffy who was glowing. Both of them. Glowing. Alive. "Promise me something?"

"What?" They asked as one.

"Don't move too far?"

Silent sentences passed between the lovers, all spoken through the eyes. "Promise." Will grinned.

* * *

_Days_

"Promise not to freak, okay? He's _not _evil."

"Buffy. My boyfriend turns into a big, shaggy wolf-man three nights a month. I get demons inside not equaling evil. Will won't even look different. _Does_ he look different?" Willow began confidently and finished nervously.

"Not unless he vamps." Buffy moved hurriedly past that part as Willow's eyes widened at the term. "Maybe he smirks more. And he sniffs. It's kind of gross, but I don't think he can help it. It's like when I first got the Slayer-bug. I broke all the drawers in my dresser and an alarm clock in the first month 'cause I couldn't control the whole strength part of the deal."

"Ooh, like when I started practicing magic and I made Mr. Leeman's toupee float?"

"That was hysterical."

"Best study hall ever. Also most embarrassing. Thank God no one else paid attention in there."

"I think she's ready, Luv." Will's voice called through the front door, breaking up the trip down memory lane.

"Right. He also has freaky good hearing now." Buffy stopped pausing on her porch and opened the door. "Go on in." She let her friend pass.

Willow stepped into the house a little more slowly than usual, then smiled. A few feet away, where the hall met the living room, he smiled back. "Hi."

"Hey, Red."

"You... you feel better?" She asked in her perkiest voice.

"Cured. I could run a mile in a minute and nothin' hurts."

"Oh. So that's good." Willow nodded again, still smiling. "Um. Do we still hug?"

"As much as Brits ever hug." He opened one arm, and she slid into it.

Buffy sighed._ That was easy. Maybe it'll keep getting easier. Maybe it all keeps getting easier. Or not. I mean, that was like, record breaking easy._

The doorbell chimed. "Oh, Oz is here. Pizza!" Willow ran from his side to the door as if she owned the place, which, after so long as Buffy's friend, she felt like she did.

"That wasn't so bad. I could hear you givin' her the 'brace yourself' talk." William snickered as Buffy filled the place Willow had just left.

"Is she giving Oz one?"

He cocked his head and listened to the couple whispering in the doorway. "I don't think so."

Oz entered, pizza in hand. "Hey, man. Good to see you. You're rocking the pale look. Looks even more goth. I think it could work with the 'musician' sterotype."

"Good point." Will came over and took the box from him, put it on the coffee table, and they smiled. "We'll have to rehearse inside. Or after dark."

"We always do that." Oz pointed out.

"So nothing's really changed."

"Can I see you in fangs?"

"Sure." He changed.

"Nice."

"Thanks."

Buffy and Willow looked on, slightly open mouthed. "That's it?" Buffy finally managed to squeak. Both men looked over at her as they were bending to grab slices.

"I'm sorry - should we get plates?" Oz asked.

"Never mind." Buffy's amazed look turned into pure happiness.

_Now if only Mom was this easy..._

* * *

"Mom! I missed you. How was your trip?"

"It was fine, Sweetie. How was your father?"

"Uh- busy." Buffy smiled stiffly.

Her mother nodded, and took it as par for the course lately. "Of course I worried about you the whole time. And Will. I never got a call, so... He's still hanging in there?" Joyce stroked Buffy's hair back and looked at her with tender concern. Losing that Angel character was hard enough. Losing a nice, sweet boy like William? It was a sin.

"He's actually- going to be okay." Buffy said carefully.

"What? That's wonderful!" Joyce exclaimed elatedly. "That specialist in Los Angeles helped?"

"Um. Yes. He doesn't have any pain and he's... Well, the tumors aren't an issue either." Not lying was getting really hard.

Joyce sighed in relief. "Rupert must be so happy! Is he with Rupert now? We should have them over to dinner. We could even hold a little party here, with your friends, Willow, Oz, and I suppose we ought to invite that other man, Mr. Pryce, even if I don't really like him. I guess it would be rude if we didn't." Joyce rattled off plans as she unpacked her carry on, laying out some souvenirs and purchase orders from her recent art buying trip.

"Yeah, maybe. Uh, Mom, listen." Buffy followed after her mother anxiously. "Will's different. Not too different, but he's changed. I want to prepare you for when you meet him."

"Honey. I'm forty years old. I know that when anyone goes through a major life event, fighting cancer, a death, a loss of a loved one- there will be some scars. Inside and out."

"Definitely out." Buffy muttered under her breath. "That's good, Mom. I want you to know something else." She took a deep breath. "I really love Will. This isn't like Angel. I love Will the way adults do- not like the 'first big love' I had with Angel. I love Will in sickness and health, until death- well, death's not going to make me stop loving him. He's my best friend. He's the one."

Joyce's eyes filled, a motherly smile on her face. She could see that. She could see a future for these two. Good kids. From difficult situations. _He's stood by her. She's stood by him._ "Buffy-"

"He's been there when you haven't. He's been there when no one else would. When you didn't believe that I was seeing vampires, and you left me in that- that place," Buffy stopped with a shudder, slightly pleased to see her mother looked horrified and contrite, "he came to see me. He untied me- because he believed I wasn't dangerous, I wouldn't hurt him."

"They tied you up?"

"Restraints, Mom. You knew it. You signed a release form." Buffy's voice had a slight edge.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. Can you blame me? You were saying things I didn't think were possible."

"Do you believe me now?"

"Of course!"

"Good. Then you believe me when I say Will is the guy for me? And he's safe. I know he won't hurt me, no matter what."

"You sound awfully serious." Joyce gave her a supportive squeeze on the shoulder, but did inject a note of caution in her voice.

"Mom. They gave Will weeks to live. I was going to lose him. Now I have another chance. I am _completely_ serious."

"Then I will be, too." Joyce's eyes misted once more. She cleared her throat. "You know, I always thought it was so sad he didn't have his mother with him these last few years. Sometimes he and I didn't get along, but I always tried to be..."

"Be there for him when he needed you? I know." Buffy's own eyes were getting moist. "You were there for his high school graduation. Three tickets per kid, and he gave his third one to you."

"And that horrible scarf I made him last Christmas."

"The awesome cupcakes you made him for his birthday."

"He's the closest thing I have to a son, I guess."_ Maybe one day a son-in-law. Who knows? They're so young, no matter what she says. Her father and I- we were married straight out of college. I wish we'd ended up differently. Maybe if we'd had rougher times to start, we would have appreciated how good we had it and... _Joyce gave one of her sudden, decisive nods, patting her daughter's shoulder. "If there's something you want to do, Buffy Summers, you find a way to do it. I've learned that. You make good choices- these days."

"I make lots of stupid ones, Mom. But they work out okay." Buffy hugged her briefly. "I'll call Will and tell him to come over. I know he wants to see you."

* * *

"I didn't tell her."

"That was the whole point of my waiting to come round!" Will hissed.

"Yeah, well, change of plans. I told her a lot of stuff, about how- how serious we are, and how I am not changing my mind about you, and how you'd never hurt me. I did say you went through some changes. She was cool with all that. She said you're like a son to her."

His eyes prickled and stung suddenly. "That's good." He said hoarsely.

"I was thinking we'd just have you come in and see if she notices anything different. She might not even notice. That's my point. You're still you. She shouldn't wig."

"She's going to! She's going to bludgeon me to death with one of her art collection books, and then she'll scream at you for not telling her in the first place."

"You can't be killed with art books. And if she screams, she screams. I don't care." Buffy said staunchly.

"Luv. You look as pale as me." Will called her bluff.

"Shut up and let's go in before I barf." Buffy hissed and pushed the door open, calling, "Mom! Will's here!"

* * *

She hugged him tight, told him he looked wonderful, kissed his cheek, gripped his chin and peered in his eyes. Then she announced, "I made some special things for you. We're going to get some color back in your cheeks!"

He ate everything she put in front of him at a dinner that was actually a feast of all his favorite things.

* * *

"Joyce, I can't eat one more thing." Three pints of blood before he arrived were helping him avoid cravings, and food in general tasted better than ever. "I'm about to burst." He patted his stomach and pushed his plate away. "You spoil me."

"You spoil Buffy." Joyce teased. "It's payback."

"Well, I'll keep doing it, and you keep feedin' me like that."

"It's a deal." More laughter. "I'm sorry Rupert couldn't come."

"Oh. He had to see Wesley."

"Who?"

"The 'other Watcher'."

"Oh. Him."

* * *

"I'm surprised to see you. You rarely come without calling."

"I won't be here for long."

"Come in." Wesley opened the door and welcomed his predecessor into his flat.

"Thank you." Giles entered, shoulders and jaw set, presence commanding. "I'm here to share some good news with you."

"Oh?"

"William has recovered, through unorthodox methods. Methods you will not mention to the Council, or you will mysteriously vanish into the Pacific Ocean." Giles announced in a deadly serious voice.

"What? Wait a minute, what methods? What's happened?"

"William has been turned. He has retained his soul- or at least most of it. He hasn't taken a life. He's been safe for over a week, and he poses no threat. Buffy is aware, and she supports him. As do I."

Wesley's lips moved in silent horror, eyes blinking and widening in shock. A thousand questions, gasps, and horrified exclamations finally birthed one coherent thought. "Surely you can't expect me to allow-"

"You can ask Buffy to slay him. She's the Slayer, he's a vampire, it's her job. There are two problems with that scenario. One- she never listens to you. Two-she loves William and will protect him. Three- she will most likely kill you if you try to attack him yourself. Four- I _will_ kill you if you try such a thing. Oh, look at that. I lied." Giles smiled icily. "There are four problems with that scenario."

Wesley swallowed. "If he harms anyone, I cannot sit idly by!"

"If he harms a human, an innocent- I will handle him myself."

"Where is he now? Is he supervised?" Wesley demanded, deflating slightly.

"Buffy's with him. The _Slayer_ is with him. And she loves him, he loves her. Can you ask for any better testament to a vampire's nature?"

"She has done something similar before, you recall." Wesley pointed out drily.

"Are you comparing my boy to that brooding bastard with a curse?" Giles asked threateningly.

"I'm only pointing out there are similarities!"

"Allow me to point out a difference." Giles smiled in a way that was decidedly not sincere. "Angel didn't have an uncle who would dismember anyone who ruined his young life, after it almost ended."

* * *

"I hate to let this evening end, but I have an auction to drive to first thing in the morning." Joyce yawned. "Buffy are you staying in, or do you have to go slaying?"

"Patrol, Mom. We patrol."

"Are you patrolling?"

"Maybe. If Spike feels up for it." Buffy bit her tongue. Too late. The slip was out. Her mother noticed.

"Spike? Who's Spike?"

"Me." Will spoke up quickly. "New nickname."

"Sounds like some hard rocker in a motorcycle gang." Joyce laughed.

"Might go good with the band." He chuckled back. Buffy let out a sigh of relief.

"I'll go get my jacket." She looked down at the "impress mom" outfit she was wearing of a summer sundress and sandals. "Actually, I'll go get changed. This is not patrol-wear."

"No rush. I'll help you with the dishes, Joyce. You wash, I'll dry." Will offered.

"I wish every boyfriend of Buffy's had been like you. Such a gentleman." Joyce grinned pointedly at her daughter, but there was no venom in her words.

Buffy rolled her eyes and ran up the stairs, slightly ill at ease leaving the two of them alone together.

Joyce turned back to Will. "I meant what I said." She told him with a gentle smile.

"Some men have no appreciation for beautiful women." He charmed in return, and they walked together to the sink, and stood side by side. "Joyce."

"Yes, dear?"

"I- hm," He coughed, and tried to think how to word this delicately, "I think I need to tell you a bit about what I went through."

"You can tell me anything. I'll listen." Joyce patted his wrist as she passed him a dry tea towel.

"You know they... they didn't give me any hope. The docs."

"I know." Joyce shook her head. "It's a miracle."

"You're right. It is. Sometimes miracles come from odd places." He hedged. "Buffy's afraid to tell you that I- what I did."

"She thinks I'm not tough." Joyce laughed once. "She's never raised a teenager."

"I know you're plenty tough. I just don't want you to be disappointed in me. Or mad at her." He swallowed. "After my Mum died, I didn't think I would ever find another woman I'd want to tell my troubles to, want to be proud of me, but- then I found the two of you."

"Oh, William. William, Sweetie." Joyce's hand didn't let go of the plate as he went to dry it. "You're a _wonderful _boy. I'm very, very happy you 'found' us." She hugged him, for a few seconds longer than she ever had. Long enough to see the scar on his neck, just out of the corner of her eye.

Buffy's voice pierced the sudden stillness. "Mom? Where are my old jeans? The ones with the ripped knees?"

"Check the laundry basket in the hall!" Joyce shouted up the stairs, pulling back, confused. _He was bitten before. I remember. The hospital. I remember. He's not one of them. He's so nice. He's so normal. He hasn't changed at all._

He coughed. He could tell something was different in the way she stepped back. "I was sayin', Buffy wanted to just let you see I'm not any different, before she told you that I- I _am_ different now, Joyce."

"No. No." Joyce shook her head sadly, trembling hand going to her mouth, eyes filling with tears for a whole different reason. _Not this sweet boy. Not this smart, talented, good, kind boy._ "You can't be. Can't be that."

"Can't be a vampire?" He nodded. "I am."

Joyce felt a world of emotions swirl inside her, and she couldn't think clearly. She only knew vampires were bad, that they ruined Buffy's life, that they couldn't be trusted, no matter what. They were dangerous. They hurt. "Leave."

"Listen to me. I'm not evil. I still love. I've never hurt a soul and I- still have mine. Most of it, I think. Anyway, it's not a curse thing, I can't lose it when I'm happy." William pleaded.

"How am I supposed to believe that? I lived through what that other one did to her!" Joyce cried, backing away. "I've seen them! I've seen their hideous faces, and how they killed her friends!"

"Whoa, whoa, what's going on, what happened?" Buffy came flying down the stairs, already knowing the answer to that question, the feeling of what you've dreaded having coming to pass settling over her.

"You knew. You knew he was a vampire and you let him into our home!" Joyce turned accusingly to her daughter.

"Wouldn't have mattered. I don't need invites. Like I said, not evil. No demon drivin' this bus." Will said with a sad smile on his face. "Buffy, I'll wait outside. Joyce- I'll prove it. I'll prove I'm not bad for her. Or to her."

"I was only gone for five minutes." Buffy put her hand to her forehead, pained expression on her face. _Wasn't supposed to happen like this, wasn't supposed to happen! _"Will, wait! Don't move." She ordered. He froze in mid step, foot slowly lowering as he turned. "Mom- Will's been here for hours. You didn't even notice anything different! It's still Will. "

Joyce bit her lip to prevent the harsh words, that he'd tricked and deceived them, from coming out.

Will spoke. "I had to tell her. I wanted to tell you straight off, only Buffy thought if you saw I was still me, just sort of pointy in the teeth, you would understand."

"Understand? What is there to understand?" Joyce demanded in a slightly hysterical voice.

"That I loved her enough to do anything. That I'd rather live as a monster an' be with her, than die and lose her. And this life. The people in it." His hands reached out, towards each of them, and fell back empty. He squared his shoulders. "I'm still her William. Even if you don't- care for me- anymore."

The maternal heart bled. Half of her warred in favor of the orphaned young man, so sweet, and such a constant part of the new life she'd made in Sunnydale, right from the beginning. The other half recalled in all too painful detail that Angel had become Angelus, and that you could never trust a vampire. Especially once they get what they want.

"Mom. Please. You know him. This isn't me asking you to trust someone with a hundred years of vampire-badness. This is Will. _Our _Will. Will-with-horrible-scarves-and-awesome-cupcakes Will. Will who saved my life and yours, who got me to try out for cheerleading, who helped me learn to parallel park! You can't turn your back on someone because they suddenly change!"

"And you can't act like nothing's changed when something has!" Joyce fired back, overwrought, and overwhelmed, eyes avoiding the man in the middle of her kitchen, someone she felt so much love for, and now fear of. "How do you know this isn't like the last time? How do you know that once he has- the things he wants from you- he won't hurt you?"

"I'm right here, Joyce." William said quietly. "I can still hear. You want to ask me?"

"I don't know if I'd believe you."

"You did five minutes ago." He controlled the anger building, the retorts he wanted to hurl, about how much he'd forgiven _her_ for in the past. Forgiven her when she'd betrayed Buffy, and Joyce didn't even have the excuse of "changing" before she'd done some horrible things to her own child. He seethed inside, and swallowed the rage as he mentally ticked off all the sins he'd forgiven. Forgiven her for throwing his best friend out, locking her up, never listening... He'd become a literal creature of darkness, and still remained true.

_Isn't that bloody tragic? _

Demons feel the sadness more bitterly, too._ It must be a trade off. Colors brighter, flavors better, anger like lava, sadness that'll drown you. A poet's dream. A heart's torture._ Anger simmered. Giving into it would only prove her point if he flew off at her. _It's all about proving myself, isn't it? Fine. _

"Why don't you give me what I want most, and we'll see what happens?" He suggested in a low, silken voice, forcibly calm.

Joyce instinctively reached for her daughter, only to find her moving away, towards him.

"He's already got me, Mom. It's not about that." Buffy whispered.

"What do you want?" Joyce asked in a tight voice.

"To know you didn't stop lovin' me. It was kinda nice- havin' someone like a mum around."

She froze. Stopped loving? No. No, she loved William. She loved him quietly, from a distance, as best friend's mother's are supposed to do. She didn't stop loving that boy. This monster was not that boy.

Was he?

"I love William."

"That's me." He looked at her for the first time since she told him to leave. Eyes met.

_He has such beautiful eyes. Tear-filled, bright, bright sapphire eyes. His mother must've been so proud of him. What a beautiful boy to have. _

_There's just one way to find out. _

She stepped towards him. Slowly. Unevenly. Looking at him, for signs of trickery, traces of hunger.

She couldn't find any. Just a pale man, with pain on his face, and her daughter's hand clasped like a life line. "William?" She checked.

"That's me." He repeated. "Still me. _Always _me."

"Then... I love you." She barely managed to get the words out, like saying them was pulling a trigger.

Of a sort.

He moved suddenly, she gasped, and Buffy's breath was drawn in sharply, as was the rest of her, into the powerful, crushing, thankful hug.

She swallowed the scream, and realized what the lunge was. Just relief. That he's not alone. Her arm slowly patted his back.

"You won't regret it. I promise."

"I'd better not." Joyce warned, surreal feeling washing over her as she found herself in an odd, layered hug. "I must be crazy." She muttered.

"You fit in great." Buffy soothed.

* * *

"What about your education?" Joyce asked.

"Continuing it. Still paid for, still a ward of a uni employee. Legally, nothin's changed. According to the world, I'm twenty years old, alive, kickin', and registered for two night classes, two online." William submitted to the grilling session with good grace.

"How will you work, earn a living?"

"College bookstore still offering me my old job. Work for three days a week, in a room without windows and in the late afternoon. Not to mention the band. All night gigs. It doesn't clear much after overhead, but hey, it's something. Also-" he looked mildly uncomfortable, "blood's pretty cheap."

"After college?"

"Night shifts. Work inside. People do it, Joyce."

"What about daylight?"

"I avoid it directly."

"What about a family?"

"I have one." He held onto Buffy's hand.

"Yes. He does." Buffy said in a voice that was somehow sweet for him, and steely for their audience of one.

That was the moment that made Joyce decided to abandon that line of questioning.

At least for the time being. She concentrated on something else. "How is Rupert taking this?"

" 'Bout the same as you were- for the first couple minutes. Then he realized I was still me, only paler and pointier, an' he was just damn happy not to be buryin' me. At least, not the type you don't dig out of."

Joyce shuddered. The alternative was terrible. Terrible unless the human face was just a mask, a distorted image of the person they were. His didn't seem to be like that. "I'm glad you're here with us." Joyce murmured, then swallowed as she rose briskly, unable to look at them any longer, unable to have any more of this conversation. "Cocoa?"

* * *

_Weeks_

"I think you should let me sit in with you."

"What? No. I mean, I appreciate you guys taking turns wolf-sitting, but not in the cage." Oz waved away Will's offer.

"You were tellin' me about learning to control it. That you know it's always in there- not just on the wolf moon." Will lowered his voice. "I know what it's like. Bit of demon to bit of demon- maybe it'd help? If it doesn't, I can get out, no worries."

"I've been digging through the web and some of Giles' books. There's this place in Tibet. Willow and I might go this summer." Oz stepped into the gated off section of a mausoleum, the new safe spot they used ever since the school library blew up.

"Aw, man. What about our relaunch?"

"We can move it up." Oz said easily. "New songs, ready to roll."

"I still think we need a new name."

"I know. Just not feeling the other one."

"It'll come to us."

* * *

Spike watched the transformation happen. Watched the wolf rage. He vamped slowly.

"Hi, mate." He gave a grotesque smile. Oz howled long and shrill in return. "You're angry. I get it." The vampire said easily. "The human world's so bloody annoyin' to us. The rules. The manners. But it's the people that make it do-able, right?"

Snuffling. Snarling. Eventual calm. "You hold in a lot. Would do you good to let it out a bit sometimes. In your trademark 'man of few words' style." He gave a crooked, fangy grin. "Maybe the demon would get used to the compromise. No expert. Just saying."

They both inhaled the night air. Giggling females could be heard in the distance. "Idiots." Spike sighed. "Thank God the girls are on it tonight, savin' the bimbos from themselves. What you gonna get Willow for Christmas? I mean, sorry, Hanukkah?"

The rapid, bestial breathing slowed. No answer of course. Nothing human or intelligible. "I was thinking about givin' Buffy a weekend away someplace. Her vacations always suck. Mine, too, if I'm honest. That is, if you an' Red'll mind the Hellmouth for a night?" He chuckled, and something- something almost like a soft snort of agreement, emitted from the wolf.

Spike casually leaned against the bars. No claws sliced his skin. The shaggy form on the other side paced warily a few times, then laid down. "I bought us a snack." Spike winked, reached for his black satchel, and pulled out a thick brown bag. "Daily double." He hefted out a chunk of butcher paper around a thick cut of raw beef, then a quart container of beef blood. "You get the meat, I'll get the blood. Cheers." He tossed it in, and Oz dove on it hungrily. "You're gonna have to tell me tomorrow if you get sick, all right? I don't know how the wolf-human digestive thing works. No offense, but I don't wanna know."

* * *

Hours passed. One spoke, one listened. Sometimes, there seemed to be a pattern of responses. But no one would know until the dawn what was really understood and retained. Spike stood reluctantly as the night began to fade. "Dammit. I gotta go, man. I'll be crispy otherwise."

Something seemed to stiffen in the half-wolf, an effort shaking his limbs- and human eyes peeked out for a split second, before the blackness over took them again.

Spike grinned. "I knew you could, if I could. See you at the Bronze 'round eight?"

Maybe he dreamed it, but there may have been a nod somewhere under the fur.

* * *

"He didn't change."

"I know. He's just snarkier. And into leather lately. Maybe vampires don't chafe?" Buffy got their sodas, Willow handled the fries. "Anyway, it's January. Are you just getting it, or just confirming it?"

Willow shook her head impatiently. "Will is- you're right he's snarky and he is kinda goth-y lately, but I wasn't talking about him. Oz. Oz didn't change last night."

"What?" The sodas rocked precariously as Buffy barely managed to sit them on the table before she turned in shock.

"Oz didn't change. It was a full moon, but he didn't change."

"How?"

"He's been using a meditation routine, prayer beads, and following the teachings of this zen-master guy from Tibet- who moved to India and got a website."

"Weird."

"I know."

"So he didn't change? At all?"

"He still went into his 'cage' and he didn't move. Like, for the whole night. He told me I couldn't talk because he needed to do whole conscious focus or whole body consciousness, I don't remember now. And he was sweating. Not in a sexy way, in a having the flu way."

"I can't think of Oz sweating as sexy, sorry."

"You're not focusing."

"Because I'm in shock!"

"What, your boyfriend can stay not-demony, but mine can't?" Willow's voice took on an angry edge.

"No! No, no, no! Happy shock! Believing you but amazed shock!" Buffy hastily clarified, grabbing Willow's hands.. "Do you think it will work again?"

"I hope so. This was the first time."

"What happened? What changed?" Buffy's eyebrows lowered as she worried. There was no cure for being a werewolf, and Oz had tried for years to protect people from the wolf in him.

Willow shared her friend's concerned look. "A bunch of things, I guess. Oz said- Spike talks to him. When he watches him."

"We all talk to him. We even read him stories."

"I know, but vamp to wolf, it must be different. Oz said- he never tried to find a way to work _with _the demon. It just overtook him. He didn't remember anything. But now... I guess the demon parts communicate or something."

"I'm also in shock Oz talked that much."

"He talks to me!" Willow laughed.

"I guess he - ooh, here they come." Buffy stopped talking abruptly and grabbed her girlfriend's arm excitedly, watching with shining eyes as the Bronze's lights flickered, and stage lights changed to a dark blue spotlight.

"Appearing for the first time- one of your favorite soloists, and two of the members of The Dingoes Ate My Babies, the Bronze is proud to introduce- Face Value."

"I like it." Willow whispered under the raucous cheers.

"Me, too." Buffy agreed. "Also, our boyfriends are hot."

"Well, duh. They're going to be a huge hit."

* * *

_Months_

"I've found something huge." Giles laid a heavy tome in front of his family as they sat for dinner.

Will raised an eyebrow. "You did. A book. Good for you, Bertie. Look harder and you'll find you've got lots of these 'huge' things lyin' about."

"Ignore him." Buffy elbowed her sarcastic boyfriend. "He's upset because Face Value won Battle of the Bands, best new group."

"Oh, pity." Giles remarked with a similar raise to one eyebrow and sarcasm.

"Yup. There's the family resemblance." Buffy murmured and tried not to find it too unsettling.

"I don't mind the trade offs. I don't." Will protested. "I'm just bummed. Oz and I get the chance to play the opening set for UC's Summer of Rock fest. Which happens to start at noon."

Giles' eyes twinkled. "Have you turned it down yet?"

"I'm gettin' a little liquid courage first." Will looked at him over the mug in his hand.

"You may not need it. I think I've found something that will help." He pointed to the faded text on cracking paper.

"'The Valley of the Sun, hides the Stone of Amara.'" Will read. Read silently and then looked up. "I don't think I ought to go to the Valley of the Sun, no offense."

"Be quiet and drink your blood, you're in a mood." Giles sighed impatiently and turned to Buffy. "I don't know how you live with him. In a single room, no less."

"It's that whole 'love of my life, I would love you alive or undead' stuff." She laughed lightly and both of them peered at the book. "Genuinely not being a wise guy, but what is this place? What's this stone?"

"A ring that makes the wearer invincible. Unable to die. Or be killed. Vampires have worn it in the past. They could walk in daylight. Survive in the sun."

Will's eyes gleamed. "I could- wait, where is this thing? It must be a bloody hot item, every vamp in the world must want it."

"Possibly. If they knew where it was. Or even heard of it."

"So where is it?"

"If I'm correct- it's under the freeway."

"What freeway? _Our_ freeway?" Buffy screeched.

"Sunnydale used to have a valley. They built a motorway through it." Giles' smile vanished. "I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up, though. It's not a guarantee. It's not going to be easy to find. We may not find it ever, but even if we did, we can't guarantee it'll be in time for this opening day event."

"I can do impossible things." Will grabbed the book. "I have amazing people to help me."

* * *

"You owe me a manicure." Buffy moved boulders out of the way with a grunt.

"On a sunny Saturday." Will winked and heaved one next to her.

Willow cleared her throat. "Can I help?"

"You are helping, you an' Bertie are supposed to be on route plannin'." Will grunted, reaching another rock-filled portion of tunnel. "If we're not careful, we'll cause a sinkhole."

"Just let me help. Stubborn vampire." The redhead elbowed him out of the way.

"Smarty-witch."

"Wicca." Willow corrected, and closed her eyes. Her fingers moved slowly, then faster, kneading the air around her. Rocks began to shift slowly. Pebbles fell, followed by stones creaking apart, rolling effortlessly to the side. A narrow passage opened.

"Marvelous." Giles whispered.

"Nice one." Oz offered his girlfriend the corner of his shirt. "Nose."

"Shoot. Dizzy now." Willow sat down on one of the larger rocks, pressing her sleeve to her dripping nostril. "You can crawl through that, Buffy."

"I'll do it." Will said quickly, worried about what might be on the other side, worried about cave-ins and creepy curses maybe guarding vampire treasures.

"We'll go together." She pulled his hand. "Oz? Can you smell anything dangerous?"

"No poison gasses or anything. No fresh air either. It's a one way." He sniffed.

"Be careful. It's going to be unstable." Giles looked nervous.

"Unstable. That's us." Buffy joked, and slide through the slender gap in the rocks. Will squeezed through behind her.

* * *

"Oh. My. _God_."

"College is paid for. For all four of us." Will gasped. "An' half the bloody freshman class!"

"There must be a thousand pieces of jewelry here!" Buffy blinked around the tiny cavern, filled with enough gold to blind them temporarily. "Which probably means ten thousand stones."

"I hope it's not in a soddin' tiara." Will grumbled and gently lifted such a piece up, and set it on Buffy's head. "My Lady."

"Sir William, the Spike." She draped a heavy gold chain over his neck as he bowed. "Hey- thought. How are we going to test this stuff?"

* * *

The flat was filled with bags- book bags, purses, brief cases, garbage bags- all full of the newfound treasure. Oz and Willow sat at the cluttered dining room table with five small but growing piles of things from a larger pile marked "tested."

"Ow."

"Not this one." Buffy took a bracelet and tossed it to Oz.

Will put on a dark red ring in an ornate gold setting.

Buffy winced and squeezed the eye dropper full of holy water over his hand. A burst of steam rose.

"Ow!"

"Not this one." Will handed her the ring, and she tossed it to Oz, who passed it to Willow who divvied it into the appropriate pile.

"Perhaps we should stop for today? Your arm is beginning to look like you submerged it into a box of fire ants." Giles was laying out the next assortment of pieces for him to try.

"You could test faster if you put on a bunch of things at once. Then take them off one at a time, work backwards. Less ouchy, if you happen to have the right piece on." Willow pointed out.

"Less painful the other way, too. If it's not on, one drop'll still sting, whether I'm wearin' ten pieces or twenty. " He groaned as Buffy started draping trinkets over him. "I'm really glad I can't see m'self right now." He looked at his girlfriend piteously. "How stupid do I look?"

Buffy rested a gaudy gold broach on his shoulder and kissed his lips swiftly. "Totally ridiculous. It's okay. I think that look works on us."

* * *

_Years_

"Morning."

"Morning." Buffy sat up and stretched. "Did you turn off the alarm?"

"Late night." Will stretched.

"Yeah, but we have brunch with Mom!"

"I don't like brunch. Sounds sissy."

"You write poems."

"_Manly_ poems."

"Don't you dare 'lose' your ring. You're going, and you're going to say nice things about the egg casserole." Buffy put her hands on her hips and looked down at the tousle-haired platinum blonde beside her.

"That won't work anymore, and you know it." Will flexed his left hand as it came to rest on his ivory torso. The gold band adored the fourth finger, and it was restyled, cut down, the stone atop it seeming a bit too large for a wedding band. "I can't take this ring off now. I'm a married man. People'd talk." He smirked.

"Yeah, and you'd burst into flames." Buffy gave in with a sigh and sank back down beside him. "Fine. Ten more minutes?"

"Nnn." He nibbled her neck. "Not enough time, Precious."

* * *

_Years and years_

"How bad?"

"It's bad." Willow whispered.

William grabbed the body, bent wrong and somehow limp against him. "Buffy? Slayer! Look at me, listen to me!"

"Hi." Buffy opened her eyes. "Sorry... party started without... you."

"I'll find them. I'll find them and kill them." He snarled.

"Fine by me." Buffy laughed weakly. "I don't actually hurt. Just cold."

His heart was still but it raced, mind buzzed. Willow was there, looking on, blinking tears out instead of back, probably blaming herself. Who knew where his uncle, Oz, and Wesley had gotten off to, probably after the few remaining members of the vampiric nest they'd been tangling with all night.

_Avenging her._

_ No need. _

_ She can do it herself. _

"Listen to me." He spoke in a soft, stern voice, a voice that ordered her not to slip away. "You're bleedin' inside. I'm gonna take a little, and it won't take much. When I give you my arm, I need you to-"

"No." Buffy murmured.

"No?" He swallowed. He couldn't force this. They talked about it sometimes. They never really reached any conclusions.

_But she's my wife. My life. I can't just let her go. _ "Buffy, please. It's- it's not so bad. We'll have each other. We can make it."

"I don't care if I'm a vampire or not. I used to be afraid of that. Not since you." Buffy weakly smiled and put her cold palm to his somehow less cold cheek. "I can't. If you take a life- the demon wins. The dues. Remember?"

"Luv." Spike swallowed. "I'm not taking your life. I'm saving it. It's spillin' out, and I'm gonna catch it and give it back to you, Baby." He pled. Her eyes seemed to blink glassily and his heart twisted into a tourniquet of pain with every millisecond that passed.

"Not strong. Like you. I would... turn. Turn evil." Buffy shook her head.

He laughed. Laughed and tears popped out and ran down the soot and blood on his cheeks. "You're my strength. You're every bit as strong as me, and more. I fought for you. I held on for you. Can you hold on for me?"

"I would hold... everything for you. But," she licked her suddenly very dry lips, "you were the only one in the world. In time. Not to turn. All the other fledges we've tried to help, to save- none of them..." Her eyes were faded pools, losing their luster, bust still focused on him. "You were a miracle. My miracle."

"No. No, it doesn't end like this." Spike grabbed her desperately, lifting her up, lips to hers, all over her beautiful, pale face. "I'm not your miracle, I was your one damn risky chance, but it took. _We_ took it. Slayer. Slayer, all the things we've ever done... At least take the chance? If you go... I'll know it. The soul can slip into heaven, an' I'll send the body along after if I have to."_ Then take my ring off and send myself as well. There is no life without her sharing it. Not now. Not anymore. _

This pause seemed different. Considering. "Big chance." She wheezed.

"I'll take it. I'd take amy chance for you, and you know it." He swallowed. "What have you got to lose by trying?"

"You." _I can't lose him. Not yet. Not yet. Sometimes we have to do the scary things. _"Do it."

* * *

"What've you done?" Giles was aghast when he came back and found her lying peacefully, blood on her lips, deep wounds in her neck.

"Saved her." Spike had not changed. The life was not "taken" by him, thought maybe it had been finished by him. "Her choice. Willow saw."

"It was." Willow nodded, barely able to speak.

"William, you can't do this for everyone you love who might die! Death is natural. Things must end."

"Not this thing." He stroked Buffy's unmoving cheek. "To lose her and live alone- that would be unnatural. To stay together, that's the only thing that feels right. I don't care how the rest of you see it."

"But you can't always do this!" Giles couldn't deal with this. Grief, shock, worry. _Buffy's dead. My daughter is dead. My Slayer. _His heart was screaming, and it came from his throat. "You can't do this!"

"I won't!" Spike rose and roared back. "She's my one. One and only time I'll do this. I don't even know if it'll work, I just know," from under the roar, a sobbing wheeze erupted, "we had to try. Oh God, Bertie. Bertie." He fell forward. "What if it doesn't work? What if she's gone?"

He joined him on his knees, pulling his head to his shoulder, his own tears beginning to course, shoulders shaking. "William. Shhh. Shh, William." He comforted, just like he had done so many years ago.

* * *

_Eternity_

_I thought I had to fight you._

_ I__'m a demon. My whole job is to get what I want._

_ What__'s that supposed to mean?_

_ I want you. Just like you are. Sunshine and dripping with good. __'Cause that's what we love._

_ You sound like Spike._

_I _am _Spike. We're just one, him an' I._

_ That explains it._

_ He even loves you a bit dim, you know._

_ Hey!_

_ Just rest. We don__'t have to wage a great war, not like he and I did before he woke up and won._

_ Good. I don__'t think I'm up for all the fighting. So tired._

_ Yeah, well, you see a bright light- you stay the bloody hell away from it. Stay in the soft, dark part. Dreamless. When the moon rises, you__'ll rise. Every bit as beautiful, and a lot more snarky. Like permanent PMS._

_ What, with cramps? Where the hell is the light?_

_ No, no. No pain. Just the attitude. _There was a chuckle._ I kinda like you with that attitude, Slayer. Plus, dessert in the offing._

_ Oh. Ew. Now I know you__'re Spike._

_So you can trust me. Close yourself down, sleep. You'll wake up again. You won't even tear your soul, it'll just... expand a bit. Make some room for me. You'll still be in control. Have been before. You have a little demon in you already, you know._

She was too exhausted to question. But it was Spike. Will. Someone she didn't have to question. She slept.

* * *

She rose. Not from a box, from a bed, bathed and wrapped in her own pink silk robe, in the condo she had lived in since she was married, bought with their share of the "Amara money".

She'd never realized it was so amazing. Everything was brighter, more beautiful, even the dust bunnies, the single strands of gray she could see above their bed. Their bed. "Spike!"

"I'm here, I'm right here!" He jumped from the edge of the bed, mug out stretched. "You're here." _Please, please, please, please..._

She was breathless. She realized she couldn't have gotten her breath back had she wanted to, but now- seeing him through these magnificent new eyes? "You're even more beautiful. Wow."

"It's you?"

"Of course it's me! You sent your own demon in, did you really think he was going to try and move me out? I've been really good to him." Buffy snapped. Then paused. "Whoa. He was right about the 'tude."

"What? Who?"

"Never mind." Buffy reached for him, pushing away what was in his hand, even though suddenly she found it smelled delicious, not revolting.

Spike slid into the bed beside her, wrapping his arm around her tightly. "You feel okay?"

"I don't feel any different. Except for having mega vision. We need to dust more."

He laughed in relief, and concern, trying to still the fear screaming inside him. Her comments so normal, yet so surreal. _Like us, I guess._ "Hungry?"

"Yeah. But not angry. Not like you were. Ooh, hey, I have all my memories. That's good."

_That's normal. It's what else she has that's special. _"I think you still have your soul, Pet. Not even pieces, the whole thing."

"I do. He told me I would. It's just bigger. My soul. It - hey, it grew a bulge in it." She laughed and touched his cheek.

"You are my beauty, effulgent. You're mine forever."

"How poetic is that, huh?"

"Perfect for a poet."

She paused. "Is this what you always wanted?"

He paused in return. "No. Before I got sick, I wanted to grow old with you. Die with you. Be buried in a little plot where our grandkids could visit."

Her eyes misted. "After?"

"After... maybe I knew it would be an option. I told you that. Never lied."

"I know."

"Slayers just run the risk of dyin' young. Stupid thing for the universe to do, if you ask me. Ought to relieve you of your power after few years and pass it on if they're so hot for this 'one girl in a generation' song, then let you live a long, glorious life as a bloody big thank you."

"So you're doing what the universe didn't?"

"That's me. Mr. Universe." He curled his tongue and winked.

Buffy added sudden, extreme lust to the list of differences, right after the great eyesight, the blood craving, and the shorter fuse. Not ordinary lust. Lust like she wouldn't care if it was in the middle of a street lust.

"Slayer likes?" Spike hinted, scooting even closer.

"Even more than before, apparently." Buffy's eyes lit up as they rolled together.

"We should wait." Spike backed up suddenly.

"Okay, who the hell are you and what did you do with my husband?" Buffy demanded.

"Oh, I'm with you on the breakin' in the newly healed body, Pet. It's the rest. Everyone is downstairs, pacin' and prayin'." _And Oz is carryin' a concealed stake. If it had to go down, he'd do it for me. _

"They can wait." Buffy experienced a rare sensation of putting her own wants first without feeling guilty, or trying to please someone else. Except Spike. She'd be pleasing him plenty.

"If they hear the noises we'll be makin', Luv, they'll think we're fightin' and rush in. I don't want an audience our first time 'renewin' our vows'." He chuckled.

"Good point." Buffy unwillingly sat up. She looked toward the mirror over her dresser. Nothing. "Oh wow. You're going to have to swear to tell me if I have stuff in my teeth or bad hair."

"I'll add it to love, honor, an' cherish." He rolled his eyes. "C'mon. Your mum already threatened to take a fire ax to me. Let's go show her she doesn't need to make son-in-law salad."

Buffy stared at her hands. "I'm pale. I don't know if I've ever been this white. I grew up in Southern California."

"Well, in case you wondered, you look amazing pale. Like an angel, all white and gold, milk and honey. An' you glow. At least you glow to me." He took her hand as they headed towards the door.

She froze. "What if I go crazy? What if I snap and lunge at necks, and they try to stake me?"

"Then I beat 'em senseless, we run, and we move to Tahiti. We could afford it. I'll find a jeweler to cut the stone in half but not 'shatter' it, since Bertie says that'll destroy the power. We'll get you a matchin' ring, an' you'll still have your sun. It'll be all right." He took her hand. "This was a lot to ask you to do." He realized afresh, reading the mixture of emotions in her eyes.

"There are some people you do anything for." She reminded him.

"If we lose everything, we still have each other."

"Then we still have everything important."

"Now who's the poet?" He teased gently.

"Oh, shut up and prepare to fend off my mom." She snarked back.

* * *

"They're not that different." Joyce said in amazement, hours later.

"It's a miracle. Incredible." Giles agreed, in the same awed tone.

"How'd they do that?"

"They were brave enough to try the impossible I suppose." He looked around the beautiful home and the beautiful couple now sitting in the kitchen, hands clasped, talking and smiling, rejoicing in the fact that they hadn't lost each other- for the second time in such young lives. "Fortune favors the brave."

* * *

"They're talking about us." Buffy could hear them, faintly.

"I know."

"Are we actually brave? Or really co-dependent?"

"Neither. Remember what I told you? It's not the stupid people, or the crazy people. Not the brave ones or the needy ones."

"The people in love." She remembered. She knew it by heart. "Mine?" She asked with a strange sense of saying much in one small word. She extended her hand slowly, gracefully, as if offering something bigger than the little gesture indicated.

He recognized it. He took her hand and kissed it, fangs emerging to delicately prick the surface and seal the words in blood. "Yours. Forever."

_The End_

_Thank you for reading._


End file.
